


Red Ridge

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, First Time, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-19
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-06 20:40:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8768506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sheriff Dean Winchester leads a quiet life in the small town of Red Ridge.  Until a handsome stranger turns up and changes everything.  Unrelated boys in the Old West.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

  
Author's notes: _My first fanfic, cross-posted from the Sam/Dean Slash Archive. Feel free to leave a comment if you enjoy it, because feedback makes my little heart go pitter-pat! Thank you for reading!_  


* * *

Dean could hear the commotion from inside of the saloon before he was halfway up the street. He had been sitting at his desk in the jail, waiting for Old Man Morgan to sleep off his latest bout of disorderly drunkenness, idly shuffling through his logbook. Dean had just been pondering the heat, and whether or not dousing himself at the well might help any, when Jamie Flanders had come bursting through the door.

 

"Sheriff, there's a helluva row going on down at the saloon." Jamie managed to pant out. He bent at the waist as he tried to catch his breath, and reached an arm up to mop at the sweat on his brow with his dusty shirt sleeve. The boy was huffing and his color was flushed under his mop of red hair, his bright blue eyes wide. His disheveled appearance indicated that he had come from Ruby's at a dead run.

 

Dean let out an audible sigh. "How bad, Jamie?"

 

"Some rough fellas from away have been in drinking most of the day, they thought that Johnny was sharking em at cards, and a fight broke out. Some of the regulars joined in but I'm not sure who's fighting who anymore."

 

Dean was already moving out the door and towards his horse as Jamie told his tale. 

 

"You grab yourself a drink of water and then start heading back to the saloon," Dean instructed the boy as he swung himself up into Jericho's saddle. He gathered the reins and spared a last glance for Jamie.

 

"And for the Lord's sake, walk this time. You'll give yourself a fit running in this heat." With that, Dean gave a cluck to Jericho and they loped off down the dusty main street.

 

When he entered the saloon, the sheriff was greeted by utter chaos. It seemed that word of the brawl had spread quickly, and half of the town had shown up to lend a hand. Not that there were all that many residents in this town, but it still equalled quite a crowd for an establishment the size of Ruby's. He could see that Jamie had been right, it was hard to say who the battle was actually against. It even looked as though Miles McKinley and Jim Groves might be using the confusion of the fracas to finally come to blows regarding their long-simmering property line dispute. 

 

Ruby herself was behind the bar, shotgun in hand, but with the all the tussling didn't dare shoot for fear of hitting a townie rather than one of the strangers. Her pretty face was the picture of dismay as she watched both friend and foe creating a shambles out of her livelihood. 

 

Dean himself couldn't pick out which fellows he was supposed to be arresting. Heaving a sigh, he drew his pistol. Stepping just outside the saloon's swinging doors, he aimed at the hazy blue sky and squeezed off a single shot.

 

The effect was almost instantaneous. The warring mass of bodies all stopped and looked around in shock. No matter how rough things got with fists and voices, shots were rarely fired in Ruby's - the bar mistress wouldn't have it. It was probably one of the reasons she had been so loathe to fire her own warning shot. 

 

All eyes were on Dean as he stepped back inside. His own sharp green eyes scanned the crowd, picking out three unfamiliar faces among the townfolk. An older gentlemen with a bearded, grizzled face, and two others who looked to be just out of their teens.

 

"Sheriff Winchester, thank you for coming down." Ruby breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the competent young lawman. "As you can see, we've come into a bit of trouble this evening."

 

"What seems to be the problem, Ruby?" Dean's eyes stayed fixed on the bearded man as he finally spoke. The stranger simply looked back at him emotionlessly, his face a careful blank. 

 

Although his question had been for the barmaid, it was another who answered.

 

"I think that these boys were a little overconfident in their poker skills. When they started losing, they started to accuse me of cheating." John met Dean's gaze and held it. "I may be a lot of things, but a cheater ain't one of em. You know that, son."

 

Dean flicked his gaze over to John, taking in the cocky lift of his chin. He supressed a sigh, knowing that the fact that his father was at the center of this mess would simply complicate everything. As though things between the two of them weren't complicated enough. 

 

The sheriff turned his eyes back to the outsiders. He took a moment to just look them over. Though their clothes were dusty from travel, their hair wasn't particularly unkempt, and they didn't look as rough as Jamie had made them out to be. And the dust was hard to avoid; seemed the whole damn world was turning to dust these days. He noted that the older man had positioned himself slightly in front of the other two, looking protective. 

 

"Why don't you tell me your side of the story?" Dean asked, addressing the older man.

 

"You don't have to tell him shit, Bobby!" one of the younger men burst out. He glared at Dean with icy blue eyes. His animosity was palpable.

 

"Hush, Ansen," The older man replied without removing his gaze from the young sheriff. "It was your quick temper that got us into this in mess."

 

Squaring his shoulders, the man addressed Dean. "Name's Singer. Our party's been travelling a fair while and we just stopped in your town for a little rest. We were just playing a few hands of cards with this gentleman," he tilted his head towards John," and found ourselves outmatched. I apologize for my young friend's outburst, he ain't much for losing."

 

Singer had kept his eyes locked on Dean's throughout his tale, and the sheriff detected no hint of deception or malice in the grizzled man's expression. Although he certainly wasn't grovelling, his apologetic tone sounded sincere. Dean let his eyes scan over the two younger men again. Blue Eyes continued to stare at him challengingly, but the other appeared abashed, dropping his eyes from the sheriff's frank perusal.

 

"And what are your names?" he asked.

 

The young man with the icy eyes said nothing, but the other stepped slightly forward. "I'm Andy, and this is my brother, Ansen." Andy looked over to Singer, getting a brief nod to continue. "We honestly didn't mean to cause trouble, we've just been on the road so long, maybe our manners are a little rusty." He raised beseeching eyes to meet the sheriff's. "We're real sorry."

 

Dean took his hat off and sighed deeply as he ran his free hand through his close cropped hair. The heat had made his head damp and he could feel the strands sticking up in unruly spikes. He brushed his hand across them again, trying to smooth it all down before jamming his hat back on his head. He looked back over to his father.

 

"Is that how it happened, John?" He knew that his father loathed it when Dean addressed him by his given name, but he felt that the situation called for it.

 

"Yes, Sheriff, that's how it happened.". John's jaw tightened briefly before he continued. "But no real harm was done. Nobody got hurt in this little fray, and I vote that we all just move on and have a drink," the gambler finished. He grinned around the room winningly.

 

Dean knew that his father would want to have words with him later, after all, he hadn't missed the stress John put on his title, but right now he appreciated the man's help in diffusing the situation. John was well liked in Red Ridge, and the locals were already relaxing at his suggestion. 

 

The lawman turned to Ruby. "That okay with you, ma'am?"

 

Ruby had already stowed her shotgun back under the bar, and a relieved smile was lighting up her face.

 

"I sure am, Sheriff Winchester.". She turned to the small crowd. "Well, y'all heard Johnny . . . now who wants a drink?"

 

The locals started bellying up to the bar, with John walking amongst them, clapping shoulders and trading grins. It didn't take long before it was business as usual in the small establishment. It even looked as if Miles and Jim had given up their feud for the moment, standing close to one another at the well-worn bar. Though if Dean wasn't mistaken, Miles would be sporting a helluva shiner come morning. The only folks not joining in on the merriment were Singer and the boys. They still stood grouped together, eyeing the sheriff warily, awaiting their fate.

 

Dean stepped closer to them and tried on a reassuring expression. It felt a little false on his face, but then so did most of the smiles he put forth, so he guessed it didn't really matter. After all, Red Ridge's citizens seemed to believe his forced grins all of the time.

 

It wasn't that Dean Winchester was unhappy in his life, but he certainly wasn't happy either. Although he was a respected man in these parts, known in Red Ridge and the surrounding ranches as a tough but fair man of the law, Dean mostly just felt empty inside. In fact, these strangers were the first thing to spark even the slightest interest in him in a long time. He wasn't sure if he welcomed the feeling or not, but now wasn't the time to ponder that. He shoved the spark down, figuring he would dig it up again later when he could examine it at his leisure. 

 

He held his hand out to Singer, "My name is Dean Winchester. In case you missed it, I'm the Sheriff here in Red Ridge."

 

Singer stared at Dean's hand for a moment before stepping forward and giving it a firm shake. Bobby was a little surprised by the roughness of the sheriff's skin. It felt like a hand that was accustomed to hard work. In Bobby's experience, most lawmen were soft, spending the majority of their time sitting on their rears and soaking up the admiration of those that they were there to "protect."

 

Dean dropped his hand and gestured t to the nearest table, indicating that they should sit. He signalled to Ruby and she hustled over with a bottle of whiskey and shot glasses for the group. Dean poured them each a measure of the amber liquid, passing the shots around and raising his own in a small salute before throwing it back. Once the others had followed suit he asked, "So, what brings you fellas to our little town? You said you've been travelling for awhile."

 

Bobby again did the speaking for the trio. "We've been looking for ranch work, but times ain't as prosperous as they once was, and we've had a hard time of it. Our . . . foreman . . . is out speaking with one of your local ranchers, trying our luck in these parts." Bobby felt a little guilty for telling Winchester half-truths. After all, the young man seemed inclined to let this unforunate incident slide, and had treated them with respect despite the circumstances. But the whole truth would wind them up in even greater trouble. And the boss really was canvassing the local ranches. It just wasn't employment that he was searching for.

 

"Thinking of staying on awhile then? This whole . . . thing," Dean gestured around the saloon, "probably wasn't the wisest way to introduce yourselves."

 

This time it was Andy who spoke up. "No it probably wasn't." He looked pointedly at his brother while he said it.

 

"Well, John seems willing to forgive and forget, so the rest of these folks will do the same." Dean's sharp green eyes searched the room, locating his father heading up the stairs with his arms around Katie. Yep, he was definitely moving on, apparently ready to enjoy a little "relaxation" with one of the saloon's two working girls. Although both Katie and Genny had offered to "entertain" the sheriff free of charge, Dean had always declined them. He was an intelligent man, and knew that the meaningless caresses would do little to fill the emptiness in his soul. John, however, spent plenty of time with the girls, and they seemed to genuinely enjoy his company.

 

"That's real good," Bobby replied. He felt relieved to know that they probably wouldn't be run out of town. The boss had a hunch that they were very close to their goal, and that kind of trouble would just make their job all the harder.

 

Dean stood up from the table, indicating that their little interview was over. "Sorry, gentlemen, but I've got a jail that needs tending to. I suggest that you head back to your camp for the night, by tomorrow all of this will have blown over and Ruby will probably welcome you like regulars."

 

"We much appreciate it, Sheriff," Andy replied. He turned to address his brother. "Don't we, Ansen?" 

 

His brother had yet to say a word since his earlier outburst, and his expression had not softened. Still, he gave a small nod in Dean's direction as Singer once again shook the sheriff's hand.

 

"Hope to see you around, Sheriff Winchester," Bobby said as they stepped out of the saloon doors and parted ways.

 

Dean stood next to Jericho for a moment, watching the men lope off into the waning light. Shaking his head in wonderment at his sudden curiosity, he swung up into Jericho's saddle. With one last glance, he turned his steed towards the jail, wondering if Old Man Morgan had awoken yet, and if he would be yelling for some dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning dawned with heavy heat already hanging in the air. Dean awoke to find that his sheets were already sticky with sweat, and that, combined with the lack of sleep last night, left him dreading the day ahead. 

 

He had lain awake until the early hours of the morning, lost in thought. The disruption in his routine yesterday had messed with his head, stirring up things that he had thought were long since laid to rest. Like the empty spot in the bed beside him, for one. Though he supposed he shouldn't think of it as empty when it had never been filled in the first place.

 

Dean wasn't dumb, and he wasn't blind either. The girls at Ruby's weren't the only ones who had offered to keep the sheriff company on lonely nights. Dean was aware of the looks he got from the single women in his town. Hell, he was aware of the looks he got from the married ones as well. He was still a young man, not yet thirty, and he'd had enough comments on his looks to know that he was attractive, but he had never found it in himself to spend his time pursuing the fairer sex. In his youth he had had a few bumbling encounters in the stable, but found the whole experience to be a bit of a letdown. Tentative kisses and awkward groping had been as far as it had ever gotten, and they had done nothing to fuel his ardor. 

 

Dean was fairly certain that there was something wrong him.

 

So he had thrown himself into working with his father, breaking horses, and then into his job as sheriff of Red Ridge. He had convinced himself that he was content in his solitary life. He rarely spent time thinking about how solitary he had become. 

 

With that thought, Dean decided that contemplating this fact wasn't getting him anywhere. He pulled himself from bed and shuffled into his small kitchen for some strong coffee to start his day.

 

Sometime later the young sheriff found himself strolling into the jail to relieve his deputy. As he entered the office, Ben looked up from the desk. Dean could tell from the look on his deputy's face that he must look as tired as he felt.

 

"Hey, Ben," Dean said in greeting as he poured himself another mug of strong coffee. He threw his hat on the desk as he took a long sip of the bitter brew. Lords, it was hot out.

 

"Hey, Sheriff. I heard there was some excitement at the watering he yesterday."

 

"Just a little misunderstanding, Ben. Nothing that couldn't be smoothed over with a little whiskey. Why don't you head on home? I'm sure Sera is missing you. How's she feeling?"

 

Dean knew that the deputy's wife was at home, large with their first child, and hadn't been feeling well with the oppressive heat. He mentally shook his head at himself for his self pity, thinking of how worn out Sera must be. 

 

"She's tired and achy, but she has never been one to complain. I think she's just glad that her time is so close. Neither of us can wait to meet the little one."

 

Dean smiled at the dark haired young man. "I think all of us are looking forward to that. Go home and be with your wife, Ben. I can handle things around here."

 

"Are you sure, Sheriff? I heard that the business at Ruby's was cuz of some strangers in town? Are you sure they won't cause more trouble?"

 

As Dean opened his mouth to answer, an unfamiliar voice answered from the office doorway.

 

"I can guarantee there won't be any more trouble."

 

Dean turned turned towards the door, and his jaw dropped as he saw his fate standing there.

 

 

********************************************************************************

 

 

The man standing in the doorway was a giant. That was Dean's first thought.

 

His second thought was that the man standing in the doorway was beautiful, and he blanched inwardly at the idea. He had certainly had never thought that about anyone else in his whole life, especially not another man! He decided to blame his wayward thought on his sleepless night.

 

The man in the doorway stepped forward slowly with his hand in front of him as the sheriff drank in the sight despite the uncertainty he was feeling. "My name is Sam Wesson. I believe you met my crew yesterday."

 

Dean's sharp green eyes continued to soak in the details as he took Sam's proffered hand to shake. The dark haired man was truly a giant, standing over Dean's not in onsiderable height by several inches. The smooth looking skin of his face was deeply golden; he obviously spent much of his time outdoors. Intelligent hazel eyes peered at him from beneath the brim of a well-worn cowboy hat. The hand that shook his own was firm and worn.

 

Then Sam smiled and Dean's heart skipped a beat as deep dimples appeared, bracketing white teeth. 

 

"I'm Sheriff Winchester, but I'm guessing you already knew that." Dean withdrew his hand gently, though he missed the contact immediately.

 

"Bobby gave me directions to the jail and let me know who to look for. Bobby Singer. He didn't tell me that you were so young though. I kind of expected someone a little older." Sam gave Dean another wide grin, and Dean felt his own lips tilt up in an answering smile.

 

"Um, Sheriff? Is it still okay if I head home?" 

 

Dean turned to his deputy, noting the way Ben's eyes played back and forth between him and the newcomer. Ben seemed reluctant to leave his friend alone with the stranger.

 

"Go on home, Ben. I'll see you later today. Give my best to Sera, okay?" He gave the younger man a smile and a pat on the shoulder. 

 

"Okay, Sheriff." Ben grabbed his things and made his way toward the door, stopping briefly to size up their visitor once more. "If you have any trouble just holler."

 

Dean turned his attention back to Sam as his deputy made his exit. He felt something flutter in his stomach as he met hazel eyes again. "Have a seat Mr. Wesson.". He turned and made his way behind the desk, grabbing his own chair as he gestured to the empty one across from him. 

 

"Just call me Sam, please. I'd hate to be so formal after you bailed my boys outta their scrape yesterday.". Sam folded himself gracefully into to empty chair as he spoke. 

 

"It wasn't much of a scrape, more of a misunderstanding. Truthfully, Red Ridge is a pretty quiet little town. I think folks just got caught up because things like this seldom happen around here."

 

"Yeah, well, misunderstandings frequently turn into scrapes when you're a stranger in a small town. And Bobby told me that you treated him and the twins real fair. You have my sincere thanks, Sheriff," Sam replied. His eyes were earnest as he locked gazes with the man across from him.

 

"It was no problem. I can understand why your crew thought that they were being cheated. My father has the luck of the devil when it comes to poker. It would probably lead to more hard feelings if he wasn't such a well liked member of our community," Dean explained. 

 

Sam's face looked momentarily confused, his formerly smooth brow furrowing. "The gambler was your father?" he asked. "My boys didn't mention that."

 

"I didn't address him as such, and they didn't stick around to find out after our conversation. I didn't think that it mattered, given the situation.

 

"And my father and I aren't exactly close anymore," Dean finished. He didn't know why he felt the need to provide Sam with that, or any, additional information, but the words flowed off of his tongue regardless. Dean wasn't the type to share personal information, but for some reason he felt comfortable having shares this with Sam.

 

"And call me Dean," he added as an afterthought.

 

"I feel like I owe you an even bigger thank you for knowing that, Dean.". Sam smiled again as he tried out the sheriff's name.

 

Dean decided that it was time to move on from the thanks and move this conversation in another direction. Even with the uncomfortable thoughts he was having, he hadn't quite had his fill of Sam just yet.

 

"Your boy told me that you've been looking for work on the local ranches. Any luck?" 

 

"Not yet. But I've heard that the Lehne ranch is doing well. Thought I'd try there next. Can you tell me anything about the owner?" Sam asked.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam took his horse at an easy pace on his way back to camp due to the heat, though he was eager to share the information he had gleaned from the sheriff with his boys. A smile crossed Sam's face as he thought back to their conversation in the little jail's office, though for once his smile had nothing to do with the information that the young sheriff had provided.

 

The sheriff. Dean, as he'd asked Sam to call him. Sam hadn't been kidding when he had told Dean that he'd expected someone older, he shared Bobby's opinion on lawmen in general. Dean had been a nice surprise.

 

Not only was the sheriff young, only a few years older than Sam, but he was very easy on the eyes. He was tall, as well, only having to tilt his head up slightly to meet Sam's eyes. And when their gazes had met, Sam had noticed that the sheriff had the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen. Big and a brilliant green, with a fringe of long lashes that Sam wanted to reach out and touch.

 

He'd also wanted to run his thumb over the other man's oh-so-tempting lips, but settled for a handshake instead.

 

Sam was surprised at the feelings that the young lawman was stirring in him. Though he had always gravitated towards other men for his sexual escapades, the encounters were always hurried and fumbling, simply about meeting the need for release. He'd never had a lover. 

 

But seeing Dean made him want one. The sight of the sheriff had filled Sam's head with visions of laying the other man down on crisp sheets, slowly caressing that muscular frame with hands and mouth, taking his time to learn what made Dean whimper and shake. And then starting the whole cycle again.

 

Sam shook his head as he approached their camp, trying to rid himself of the foolish notions. Though he certainly found the sheriff attractive, now wasn't the time to lose his head. Not when he felt that they were so close to ending their crusade once and for all.

 

Bobby looked up from the cook fire as Sam walked over after staking out Bela. He was preparing some sort of stew for supper from the look of things, and it smelled good. Sam hadn't realized until right this moment how hungry he actually was, and was thankful that the older man took the time to make sure he and the others took care of themselves. Bobby could be an ornery old cuss, but he was the closest thing that Andy and Ansen, and Sam himself, had to a father. 

 

"Hey, boss. Find anything?" Bobby asked as he ladled and passed out stew, handing a plate to each of the twins as they joined the other men around the fire. 

 

Sam took a seat nearby, and began explaining the information he'd garnered from Dean in-between bites of savory stew. He really was starving. 

 

"I think we might have our man. Fred Lehne set up his ranch outside of Red Ridge just about two years ago. Since then the folks around here have been having a hard time of it. Droughts have caused a lot of the ranchers to sell off both land and livestock. Seems the only one whose property is thriving is Lehne's. The sheriff tells me that Lehne never hires local, either, always has his own men. Also spends quite a bit of time away from the ranch from what anybody can tell," Sam explained.

 

"Just because he's having a string of good luck during some hard times doesn't make him a demon, Sam," Andy was quick to point out.

 

"I know, that's why we're going to check his place out, and find out all we can about Mr. Lehne," Sam replied as he finished off his meal. "Let's get some sleep, boys. We'll head out at moonrise."

 

 

**********************************************

 

 

Sam was becoming irritated, having been staking out Lehne's ranch for the better part of night without any sign of anything unusual going on. At least not at the main house, where his attention was focused. Bobby and the twins were stationed at various other locations around the property, and so far there had been no word that they had witnessed anything suspicious either.

 

He felt his thoughts drifting again as he sat watch, recalling his conversation with Sheriff Winchester. Rather than focusing on the conversation itself, he simply pondered his reaction to Dean himself, and the feelings that he had stirred within the generally solitary Sam. 

 

When he had entered the jail and laid eyes on Dean, he had felt a sensation running through him that hadn't been able to identify. Though he worked hard to appear outwardly calm, his heart had begun beating harder and faster, and when the sheriff had clasped his hand, it had felt as though a wave of heat had rippled under his skin. And though Sam had experience with physical attraction, he had never felt as drawn to someone so quickly or so thoroughly. His mind began to conjure up images of how he would have rather spent his time with the handsome lawman. 

__

_The young deputy walked out the door, leaving Sam and the sheriff alone in the small jail._

_Sam saw that the sheriff's attention had refocused on him as the deputy had made his exit. "Have a seat Mr. Wesson.". He turned and made his way behind the desk, grabbing his own chair as he gestured to the empty one across from him._

_"Just call me Sam, please. I'd hate to be so formal after you bailed my boys outta their scrape yesterday." Instead of taking the offered chair, Sam took a step around the desk, locking gazes with the lawman before he could take his own seat. He saw the smaller man's beautiful eyes widen as he moved into the sheriff's personal space. Those perfect pink lips parted slightly in puzzlement, and Sam couldn't resist reaching out and running his thumb over the bottom one, pressing in ever so slightly and feeling the fullness. He moved a step closer, until their chests were nearly touching, and moved his hands up to gently cup the sheriff's strong jaw. Sam leaned forward until his lips were just barely brushing the other man's ear._

_"And what should I call you, Sheriff?" he whispered. As he drew back, he was still close enough to feel the puff of air across his cheek when the hushed answer came._

_"Dean. Call me Dean."_

_"Well, Dean, I've got something that I just have to tell you." Sam looked down into those bewitching eyes again, then flicked his gaze back down to plush lips. "You've got the sweetest mouth that I've ever seen, and I just have to taste it." He closed the last bit of distance between them as Dean's eyes fell closed._

_Sam leaned forward the last few inches and gently brushed his lips over Dean's. It was like brushing his lips against warm silk, and he immediately pushed in more firmly, wanting more. He felt Dean's hands come up and grip his biceps, not pushing him away, simply holding. The sinful lips under his parted on a soft gasp, and he took the opportunity the slide just the tip of his tongue between to feel the velvety flesh just inside._

_This time Dean whimpered as Sam took his lower lip between his own and started up a soft, slow suckle. The hands on his biceps tightened, definitely not pushing away, but now gripping harder, pulling Sam closer, until their chests were pressed so tightly together that Sam could feel the other man's heart beating, so close to his own. Sam's own hands slid down from where he had been holding Dean's face so tenderly, smoothing down strong shoulders and firm sides until he could grip Dean's hips and pull them in snug against his own._

_It was Sam's turn to moan as their bodies melded against one another, finally letting go of that bottom lip that he had been sucking and laving with his tongue. He looked down at Dean to find that his eyes had fallen shut, those lashes fanned across the tops of flushed cheeks, lips still parted and starting to swell from his kisses. He was beautiful._

_With a groan, Sam attacked Dean's mouth like a starving man, unable to go slowly any longer. He swept his tongue inside, exploring every bit of that sweet orifice that he could reach, stroking along Dean's tongue with his own. He could feel himself growing hard against the fastenings of his trousers, and pulled Dean's hips in even harder, needing to feel the other man's body against his swelling cock._

_Sam was no longer sure who was making the obscene moans he could hear, but he no longer cared as he felt Dean's own arousal pressed up against his own. He began rutting his hardness against the other man's, reaching down to palm his ass in order to grind them even harder together._

_Dean's arms had fastened around Sam's neck, and their mouths slipped apart so that Sam was now panting against the sheriff's cheek as they both sped towards release. He could hear Dean's voice, breathless in his ear._

_"Sam, Sam, Sam . . ._

 

"Sam!"

 

Sam jerked out his daydream to sound of Bobby's gruff voice. Apparently he'd been so caught up in fantasy that he hadn't heard his companion approach. He could still feel his cock, stiff and unsatisfied, and was glad for the darkness.

 

"What is it, Bobby?" he asked, trying his best not to feel flustered.

 

"Something's going on down by the stables, thought you'd wanna see," was the answer. 

 

"Show me," Sam said as he rose to follow the other man.

 

As they walked away from the site of his little dream, Sam realized that his fascination with Dean Winchester was one that he could ill afford. But he also realized that he was already in too deep


	4. Chapter 4

Sam, Bobby and the twins crouched behind the corner of the barn, eavesdropping on Lehne and the small group of men in his employ. They had gathered at the front of the building, black eyes glimmering in the light of their lanterns, confirming what Sam and his posse had already suspected . . . here there be demons. They appeared to be having some sort of meeting, and Sam strained his ears, attempting to make sense of what he was hearing over the quiet noises of the animals in the barn. 

 

"I'm sure you've all heard by now that we've got a special visitor coming," Lehne addressed his men. "I've received word that she plans to be here around midnight, so we've got a lot to do around here to prepare for her arrival.

 

"This is no ordinary visitor that we're getting here, boys, she's stronger than any of us have likely come across before, and she's being sent to check on our progress in our part of the grand scheme. She's on orders from even higher up," Lehne continued. "I've been provided with a list of 'comforts' that she'll expect while she's here, and we're gonna do our best to provide them."

 

Sam glanced at Bobby in the dim light, noting his friend's wide eyes at what they were overhearing. Not only did they have confirmation that Lehne and his men were unholy creatures, but that an even more deplorable demon was on its way. Sam turned his gaze to the twins, seeing Ansen practically trembling with rage, while Andy simply sat stock-still, one hand gripping his brother's forearm as if to restrain him.

 

"There's one request that we'd normally have a hard time filling on such short notice, but we've gotten lucky this time. One of the human sows in town just dropped her offspring last evening, and we need to get our hands on the little piglet," Lehne stated. "Our guest prefers a . . . particular diet, and that brat is just what we need."

 

Sam muffled a gasp behind his fist as he realized the implications of what Lehne was telling his crew. He had overheard a part of the sheriff's conversation with the young deputy, and he was willing to bet that the man's wife had given birth to their child since then. He recalled that she had been nearing that time. He again glanced at his men, noting the disgust on each of their faces. He wasn't the only one who had caught on to what the demon was planning. 

 

"We'll get ourselves ready to entertain our guest, receive her briefing, and then cause as much havoc as we can in this shithole of a town. I think our time here is coming to a close boys, so we might as well have as much fun as we can before we move on," Lehne continued. "By the time we're done here, it'll be like Red Ridge never existed at all."

*********************************************************************

Dean came awake slowly, holding on to the very pleasant dream he had been having as his mind fought it's way to consciousness. His hand moved to the throbbing erection that the dream had left him with, and he toyed with himself through the thin fabric of his undershorts as his half-dreaming mind drifted.

 

He had been dreaming of pleasure, though it had been unlike any wet dream he had ever had. The few that he'd experienced had been vague, leaving with only a dim feeling of arousal upon awakening. This dream had been more vivid, and he called the images to his mind as he pushed his hand beneath the waistband of his shorts and fully took himself in hand. His excited flesh was hot in his palm, and oozing fluid from the slit. He gathered the moisture and spread it along his length, groaning aloud at the pleasure.

 

He imagined that the hand belonged to his dream partner, and moaned again, biting his full bottom lip to stifle the sound despite being alone. In his mind the hand moving so smoothly along his cock was bigger, warmer, and attached to a firm body that was larger than his own. His brain helpfully supplied the image of smooth, warm skin and slanted hazel eyes. He imagined a low voice whispering sweet words in his ear as the stroking along his pulsing length sped up, became rougher, firmer.

 

 

His legs bent at the knees, as if to accommodate another's hips against his own, and his blissed-out mind wished that he could wrap his lower extremities around the waist of his phantom lover. One hand slid up his bare chest, feeling the light sheen of sweat building there as his excitement grew. His questing fingers found one coppery nipple, and he lightly pulled and twisted on the small nub as it hardened, causing his hips to buck, his cock sliding through his fist, now slick with his own fluids. 

 

 

Dean was so close to the edge, feeling his orgasm approaching and knowing there would be no stopping it. His hand glided down his body from where it had been tormenting his nipple, sliding between his spread legs, fondling his balls and giving them a gentle squeeze. He pressed his knuckles hard into that tender spot just behind his heavy sac, groaning out loud at the sharp burst of pleasure. 

 

That was all it took to send him over the edge, his thick cock pulsing in his hand as bursts of milky fluid painted his belly and hand. He felt as though it would never stop, and his limbs quivered with the force of his release. Behind his tightly closed eyes, sweet lips formed a dimpled smile as his body shook. 

 

As he finally came down from his orgasm, he began blushing in the dark of his bachelor's room. The feelings had been so intense in his dream, he had never felt desire like that before. And it was impossible to deny the fact that his dream lover had been distinctly male. And a certain male at that.

 

Though Dean had little in the way of practical experience, he wasn't completely innocent to the ideas of intimacy. He was aware that there were men who lay with other men, it had just never crossed his mind to consider this fact in relation to himself. Looking back on his encounters with women, he realized that none of his experiences had made him feel like the man in his dream had. And now he felt that he knew the reason why.

 

As Dean lay awake, watching the dark sky begin to lighten with the approaching dawn, he decided one thing.

 

He had to see Sam Wesson again.


	5. Chapter 5

A sharp knock at the door of the jail had Dean jerking awake from the light doze he had fallen into at his desk. After he had awoken from his dream, and taken himself in hand, he had been unable to drift back to sleep. His racing thoughts hadn't allowed it. 

 

His father always told him that he thought too much, brooded on things. It was just one of the many bones of contention between the gambler and his son.

 

Dean pulled his booted feet down from the desk where they had been sitting next to his hat, and turned to see who was actually having the decency to knock on the jailhouse door. He felt his eyes widen and his breath catch in his throat when he took in the tall figure standing there.

 

Dean stood quickly, extending his hand as he approached his visitor. "Mr. Wesson, good to see you again."

 

Sam laughed lightly as he removed his own hat and thrust his hand forward to meet the Sheriff's. The laugh hitched slightly as skin met skin, and his dimpled smile slipped away, replaced by an unreadable expression. 

 

"Just Sam, none of this 'mister' stuff," he said to the shorter man. He tightened his grip on Dean's hand, squeezing slightly, feeling loath to break their contact though the greeting had already lasted longer than was strictly necessary. 

 

In return, Dean didn't feel as though he could let go. His mind was readily supplying him with images from his sensual dream and subsequent fantasy during the early morning hours. The hand holding onto his was warm and strong, and he was imagining that same hand on other parts of his person. 

 

Blushing at the way his mind was betraying him, Dean reluctantly loosened his grip. Maybe he was imagining things, but he thought that Sam looked a little disappointed as their flesh parted. And there had been a certain gleam in those hazel eyes, Dean was sure of it.

 

Perhaps he wasn't the only one who had been dreaming.

 

Stepping back and gesturing to the extra chair, Dean settled himself back behind his desk. Part of him was reluctant to put that much distance between himself and the tall foreman, but the rational part of his mind was telling him that it was for the best. After all, it could have simply been his own wishful thinking that Sam had looked at him so intently. He was likely just projecting his own feelings onto the other man.

 

"So what brings you back, Sam? From what I hear, your boys have been keeping their noses clean." Dean looked at his guest expectantly, green eyes keen. He could tell that despite his calm exterior, Sam was nervous about something.

 

Sam looked down at the hat in his hands before placing it next to Dean's on the small desk. His mind was working overtime, trying to figure out the best way to broach the subject. Though the sheriff had been open-minded about he and his men, he doubted that he would react the same way if Sam started talking about demons and baby-stealers. However, he also knew that having Dean on his side could help turn the tide against the evil beings that were hiding behind the cover of Lehne's ranch. 

 

"Dean, I've got some information that I need to share with you. It affects your town and could mean some bad goings-on for people who are close to you." Sam chanced a quick glance up at the sheriff through his untidy bangs, noting that he certainly had the other man's attention. He decided to press on.

 

"Your deputy, his wife had their baby last evening?" he asked.

 

Dean was puzzled by the question, but felt no need to hold back the information. After all, it was the current talk of the town, and Sam could have easily gotten his answers from anyone he passed on the street. 

 

"Sure did. Healthy baby boy. They named him Liam, after Sera's father." Dean looked at Sam, puzzled, but could honestly see nothing but concern in the other man's eyes. "What does the baby have to do with anything?"

 

Sam swallowed hard, then chose his next words very carefully.

 

"That little boy is in danger, Dean. And I need your help to protect him."

 

"What kind of danger? From who?" Dean immediately asked. He felt a rush of concern for his deputy's tiny son. He was genuinely fond of both Ben and his pretty wife, and had even gotten to hold the new infant the night before. The babe had a shock of dark hair like his mother, and the face of a cherub. Dean had felt his heart stir as he held the small bundle, congratulating an elated Ben and an exhausted-looking Sera. If there was a threat to little Liam, Dean would take care of it.

 

"I went out to the Lehne ranch to check on finding some work for me and the boys. When I got there, there was some sort of meeting going on between Lehne and his men. I try not to make it a habit to eavesdrop, but I overheard a good part of their conversation, and none of it was good."

 

"What did you hear, Sam?" Dean had unconsciously leaned as far as he could across his desk, putting himself closer to Sam. 

 

"They're planning on taking that baby, Dean." Sam decided to stretch the truth just a bit more, omitting the fact that the infant was apparently meant as a sacrifice to some high-level demon. "They plan on taking him and skipping town. But before they leave they want to run Red Ridge into the ground, turn it into a ghost town." He kept his eyes locked on Dean's wide green stare as he spoke, willing Dean to see the sincerity in his own eyes. Willing Dean to trust him.

 

Dean practically jumped up from his chair, coming around the desk to stand next to Sam. He looked down at Sam with wary eyes, though in his gut he knew that the other man was telling the truth. Though they'd only just met, his instinct was to have faith in this tall stranger. And Dean wasn't one to just trust others.

 

"When are they planning on doing all of this, Sam? And what do I need to do to stop them?"

 

Sam breathed out a sigh of relief. He had so wanted Dean by his side for the upcoming fight. The young sheriff seemed to believe him, and he rose to his feet, placing his hands on Dean's shoulders, just wanting a little contact with the shorter man.

 

Dean keenly felt the heat from Sam's hands on his shoulders. Felt it through his thin cotton shirt like a pair of brands. And the longer those huge hands sat there, the further the fire seemed to spread. He looked up into Sam's eyes, that beautiful hazel, and thought he saw fire there as well. 

 

Sam's head was spinning at the feel of those broad shoulders under his palms. He realized that he should pull away, that this wasn't the right time or place to give into the want that he felt for this man. It was irrational, the feelings coursing through him at just this innocent touch. He wanted to crush Dean to him, hold him close and never let him go. He wanted that gorgeous green gaze on him always; he wanted the firmly muscled figure against him, under him, to worship and possess for all time.

 

He settled for a kiss.

 

Keeping his hands on Dean's shoulders, he slowly bridged the gap between them, bringing his lips down to meet the shorter man's. He braced himself for rejection, praying that he hadn't read the look in Dean's eyes wrong, praying that maybe he wanted this as much as Sam did. He felt the shoulders under his palms tense, saw those brilliant eyes widen, just before he sunk his mouth onto those perfect lips in the softest of kisses.

 

Dean's eyes slipped closed as Sam's lips met his so sweetly. The tension began to bleed out of him as he swayed forward slightly, bringing his upper body flush against the firm chest there. He parted his lips the tiniest bit in a soft gasp, and it was all the answer that Sam needed. 

 

Running his hands down from Dean's shoulders, he snaked them around the sheriff's trim waist, cradling Dean against him. He rubbed his mouth softly back and forth over the velvety flesh, treasuring the feeling. Sam felt more than heard the small sigh of pleasure that Dean let out as he took that full lower lip between his own, gently suckling, feeding there. His tongue crept forward of what seemed to be its own volition, starting to sweep across the luscious flesh with soft kitten licks.

 

Dean parted his lips more fully at the feel of Sam's tongue beginning to lave over his mouth. He tentatively flicked his own tongue forward, caressing the taller man's. He felt Sam's arms tighten around his middle, embracing him more fully as his own arms wound their way around Sam's broad shoulders.

 

As he felt Dean's arms close around him, Sam suddenly felt as though he wasn't getting enough of the man in his arms. Though the gentle play of their mouths was the most incredible thing he'd ever felt, he was consumed with the need for more. The intensity of the moment had his heart pounding faster, and then the rest of his body was following suit, caught up in the passion he felt for the handsome sheriff. He thrust his tongue forward into that silky hot mouth, licking along the inside of Dean's lips, along the exciting texture of the roof of that warm cavern, then stroking and petting along that sweet tongue. Sam wanted to taste every part of this angel's heavenly mouth during the precious time he was allowed.

 

Dean felt as though he was being consumed, and enjoying every second of it. _This_ was what had been missing during those long-ago fumblings in the dark. The hard body against him, the ferocity with which Sam was kissing him. This was what he had been craving, though he hadn't known it at the time. He felt as though Sam was utterly possessing him with his hungry mouth, with his strong arms pressing him close as though he were something precious. And in this moment, all Dean wanted was to be utterly possessed. 

 

Sam could sense the surrender in the sheriff's body, knew that Dean was just as caught up in this wanting as Sam himself was. Sam's cock was hard in his britches, and his hips began rocking so that he was rutting his hardness against Dean's belly. His tongue continued its assault on Dean's mouth as his hands began to roam, spreading over the shorter man's back with firm strokes, then sliding down to cup perfect buttocks. He squeezed the firm globes lightly before pulling Dean's hips up and in tight. He moaned aloud as he felt the sheriff's answering arousal pressing against his own groin. 

 

He was falling. There was no other explanation for the way he was feeling. Dean's head was spinning and his pulse was racing. He felt out of control, but at the same time perfectly safe. Because he knew that Sam had him, was gripping him tight and wouldn't let him fall. When he felt Sam's noticeably hard cock thrusting against him, first his stomach and then against his own burning arousal, Dean had to pull his mouth away from the heated kiss just to gasp for air. He buried his face in the warm crook of Sam's neck, panting as he struggled with the fire that was burning through him. 

 

He heard Sam's voice murmuring breathlessly in his ear, though he couldn't make out the words. They were just sweet little sounds, filled with affection but also tinged with lust. At the sound of his name, spoken in a low, reverent whisper, Dean lost it.

 

Sam grasped Dean even closer as his new lover shivered almost violently, muscles tensing and hips pulsing as he groaned helplessly. He could feel the heat as the other man's cock spurted out his release, and that intimate warmth against his own aching erection was all it took for Sam to follow Dean over the edge.

 

They stood there for a moment, pressed close together as they recovered from their pleasure. Until a sound from the street outside brought them both to their senses and had them parting at the realization that if anyone had entered the jailhouse during their intimacy, they would have been caught.

 

Sam gazed down at the sheriff, taking in the glazed green eyes and swollen lips. He couldn't resist reaching out and running the pads of his fingers over that mouth, just as he'd wanted to do the first time he set eyes on this beautiful man. 

 

Dean smiled softly at the gesture. A part of him was terrified by what had just happened, and more than a little ashamed at having come in his pants like a randy youth. But mostly he just felt content, like he had finally found what he'd been lacking all of these lonely years. 

 

His mind suddenly snapped back to the problem at hand, remembering Sam's warnings about his deputy's child and the threat to his town. He blushed through a moment of guilt that his carnal desires had distracted him from the things that he cared about.

 

But has he looked up into hazel eyes, Dean knew that this man was something he cared about as well. As irrational as it may seem after having just met, he knew that Sam was his to care for. And right now, Sam was being threatened, too.

 

Sam saw the expression in Dean's eyes turn to steely resolve. 

 

"C'mon, Sam. Let's go save this town."


	6. Chapter 6

Leaving the jail, Dean led Sam back to his house so that they could have more privacy to plan out how they were going to foil Lehne and his men. They were both quiet on the short trip across town, each lost in their own thoughts. With what had happened between them in the jailhouse and the impending crisis in Red Ridge, there was a lot to think about. Yet the silence was a comfortable one, and if Sam's horse might have drifted close enough for their knees to brush, well that just made it even better. 

 

Upon reaching their destination and tying Bela and Jericho outside, Dean led Sam into his modest home. It was one story and consisted of only two rooms. There was a fairly roomy kitchen which took up most of the floorplan, and a small bedroom off to the side. Dominating the kitchen area was a sturdy table with mismatched chairs, along the wall was a wood cookstove which doubled as a heat source in cooler months. Through the back door was the privy, as well as the handpump for the well. Dean counted himself lucky, as he was one of the few in town to have his own water source. Most folks had to use the public well, and then haul their water home in buckets.

 

Sam took in his surroundings with bright curiosity. Though the home was tidy, there were few personal touches to indicate who lived here. There was a book on the table with a piece of straw sticking out of it, acting as a place holder. There was also a piece of embroidery hanging on the wall near the sink, though it was beginning to yellow with age. Sam gave a small start as he recognized the Latin words worked carefully into the fabric, but decided to ask about it later. It could just be an odd coincidence, but in Sam's experience there were very few true coincidences.

 

"There's some rags under the sink if you'd like to use the handpump and, um, freshen up." Dean could feel his cheeks begin to redden as vivid images filled his head, reminding him of why a quick clean up might be necessary. 

 

Sam turned his gaze to Dean, noting the flush that was spreading over his companion's handsome face. He found it incredibly endearing that the tough, no-nonsense sheriff was blushing like a school girl at the memory of their passion.

 

"That's mighty neighborly of you." Sam tipped Dean a slow wink. "I think I'll just do that."

 

The color flamed even higher in Dean's cheeks at the taller man's cheeky behavior. As Sam strolled by to get on with his bathing, he couldn't help but reach out and put a palm to one of those rosy cheeks, needing to feel the heat that he had put there. He let out a soft sigh as Dean leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed. Unable to resist, he leaned in to press his mouth to the the smaller man's. It was a chaste kiss, but filled with a deeper meaning despite the dire circumstances. 

 

Dean's eyes flickered open again as the Sam drew away, and he watched the tall form hungrily as a rag was gathered and the rear door opened to access the backyard. He only barely resisted the urge to drop his face into his palm. Here he was with a town to take care of and he was completely distracted by the barest touch. He knew that he needed to push those feelings aside, but fiercely hoped that once Lehne was taken care of he and Sam might have some time to themselves.

 

After cleaning himself at the well, Sam let Dean know that his crew was waiting for word from him down at Ruby's. They agreed that Sam would go and get them, and return to the house. 

 

Sam again leaned in to brush Dean's full mouth with his own before he left. Though he had hoped that bathing his groin with the icy cold well water would cool his ardor, he was simply unable to walk away without taking one more taste of the sheriff. 

 

Dean melted into Sam's kiss, weaving his arms around the other man's waist and pressing himself close. He knew he was behaving like some silly girl, but he honestly didn't care with the feel of Sam's hard body against his. He groaned softly as Sam's tongue came forward to tease along his own, and that fire began to rise again. His cock was taking interest again as well, and he pushed it gently against Sam's strong thigh before pulling away. It took just about all of his willpower to do so, but he knew that if he didn't that his lust-addled brain would take over, and their planning couldn't wait.

 

"Later," Dean gasped. "More of this later."

 

"You'll hear no arguments from me, Dean." Sam caressed the other man's jawline gently before stepping back himself. "So I'll go get my boys so that we can hurry this rescue along and get to . . . later."

 

 

***********************************************************************************

 

 

Dean had cleaned up, as well as made a pot of fresh coffee, by the time Sam came back with the rest of his gang. Bobby and Andy shook the sheriff's hand and expressed how glad they were for his assistance, and even Ansen had a nod for him, which for Ansen was down-right friendly. Dean poured coffee all around, and the men sat down around the kitchen table to work out what would happen next.

 

"So Sam, what kind of timeline are we looking at here?" Dean queried as he sipped from his cup. 

 

"From what I heard, they'll be making their move around nightfall for the Edlund baby. I'm not sure about the rest of the town," was the answer.

 

Dean nearly choked on his mouthful of caffeine. "Nightfall? It's damn near midday already! How exactly are we gonna suss this out before then?" The look he directed at Sam was pure worry.

 

It was Bobby who spoke up, trying to allay the young sheriff's obvious fear for his friend's child and the town he called home. "We've got a bit of experience with types like Lehne and his fellows. We've done a fair bit of traveling, and it seems that the whole damn country is crawling with scoundrels these days. We just need a bit of your help to get them where we need them, and then you'll just have to trust us to take care of the rest."

 

Dean's eyes had focused on Bobby during his little speech, darting to the twins occasionally as they nodded their agreement. Now he redirected his wide green gaze on Sam, searching the foreman's face.

 

Sam returned his stare, trying to communicate what he was feeling with his expressive eyes. Trying to tell Dean that he could trust him, could count on him to protect the things that he held dear. Even though Sam and his men would have gone on with their plans regardless, he wanted Dean to know how much it mattered to him. That because it mattered to Dean, it spurred on Sam's resolve to rid this town of the unholy blight that the demons had visited upon them.

 

Dean must have seen all of what Sam was attempting to say, because the fear and worry was suddenly replaced with determined jaw and flinty eyes. 

 

"Well, fill me in. What do you need me to do?"

 

Sam quickly outlined the plan, including key players and locations. They would need a bit more outside help, and Dean suggested his father. Despite their differences, he felt that the man would be the most trustworthy choice in this situation. They would send Sera and baby Liam with John, to hide in the rooms above Ruby's. Due to John's close relationship with the working girls, Dean was confident that they would help him, and not ask too many questions. And even with their profession, the sheriff also knew that Sera was friendly with the other women. The deputy's wife wasn't one to put on airs or treat others as though they were beneath her. In fact, she was even kind to Old Man Morgan, who was pretty much the bane of Dean's existence. 

 

The group all agreed that getting Sera and the baby hidden was a good idea, though Sam watched Dean carefully at the suggestion of John's help. He knew that things weren't quite right between the two. Hell, Dean had as good as told him so. But until he actually came face to face with the elder Winchester, he wouldn't be able to quite put his finger on the situation. He hoped that he wouldn't have to come to blows with him if there was something more to the story. Sam felt protective of the sheriff, and any indication that Dean had been hurt by his father would likely set Sam off.

 

They also decided that they would bring Ben on board, as the young father would likely want to help protect his new son. They would set him up at the Edlund home with a false Liam, in order to lure Lehne and his men inside. Sam and his crew would need access to the house beforehand, so that they could set up the appropriate wards and sigils. Sam wasn't sure as of yet how he would explain some of these things to Dean, but figured that he would cross that bridge when he came to it. In his heart, he was hoping to tell Dean the truth. The tenderness he felt towards the other man would make telling him falsehoods painful, even if it was for his own protection. 

 

Sam's eyes sought out Dean as these thoughts crowded his mind. The sheriff was working on a second cup of coffee, deep in conversation with Bobby as they discussed positioning and eventualities. His hat was once again abandoned on the table, and he had obviously been running a hand through his hair, as it was spiking up again. His green eyes were snapping with determination, and his cupid's bow of a mouth was pressed into a grim line. Dean gestured freely with his hands as he spoke, and it made him look all the more passionate.

 

Then his face turned towards Sam, catching him staring, and his lips curved into a smile. There was something secret in that smile, something just for Sam. It made warmth bloom in his chest as he grinned back, dimples on full display. 

 

Bobby caught the look between his boss and the young sheriff, but paid it little mind. He had known for a long time that Sam's attentions tended to the same sex, but didn't feel that it made one whit of difference in his allegiance to the younger man. And if Sam wanted to take a lover, Winchester seemed like a good sort, a man who Bobby could respect. Bobby had never seen the type of glance that Sam was giving their compadre, though he could remember giving that type of look himself. A long time ago, back when his wife was still alive.

 

He knew that the twins were also aware of Sam's dalliances, and that they were of the same mind as Bobby. Sam was their leader, but also their friend. And he'd never steered them wrong in their course for justice, no matter who he chose to bed. Bobby thought that if this all worked out, there might be something in it for his friend. Something more than a quick release and a lonely ride out of town. 

 

The next hour or so was spent working out any possible flaws in their scheme. Finally they all agreed that, although certainly not foolproof, the idea had a good chance of success. Standing up from the table almost as one, the men gathered their gear and set out into the afternoon sun to put their plan into motion.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam was pleased with how everything was going. He and Dean had escorted Sera and her precious bundle over to Ruby's after quickly explaining that there was a threat to Liam. Both Ben and his wife had been willing to listen to their friend as he briefly outlined the danger. And though neither of them knew Sam from a hole in the wall, they'd known Dean their whole lives, and knew he wasn't one to be taken with flights of fancy. The young couple also weren't about to take any chances with their newborn son.

 

John had been idly playing cards with Genny, and had agreed to help keep an eye on Sera without getting too nosy about it. After seeing the young mother settled in, with Genny and Katie cooing over the babe, Sam and the sheriff made their way back to finish preparations. 

 

Sam had been worried as he had drawn the devil's traps on the ceiling over both the front and rear door, waiting for Dean to start questioning him about the odd action. But the smaller man had simply watched him with those emerald eyes, taking it in but not interrupting. Sam's heart swelled just a little bit more. He wasn't sure what the night would bring, but he knew that once it was over, he needed to be with Dean. He knew that with their very different lives it might only be for a moment, but walking away would be the hardest thing he would ever have to do. And Sam was starting to wonder if he'd even have the strength to do it. In all his travels, he had never met another human being to whom he had felt so close, so quickly. And he was loathe to let that closeness go. 

 

After issuing a few final instructions, Sam had everyone get into place. He positioned Dean inside, close to Ben, with the thought that he would be safest there. Sam had no intention of letting Lehne or any of the other hell-spawn even get close to his sheriff. He and the rest of his boys set themselves up near the home's access points as the dusk began to deepen. Each had his particular weapons, and they each knew the whistling signal that would indicate that one of their companions needed assistance. They had worked this way many times before, and none of them felt anything other than the familiar desire to take down as many evil sons of bitches as they could.

 

Inside the house, Dean was nervous. It wasn't a feeling that he was used to, but crouching in the Edlund's bedroom in the dark, he was having difficulty forcing the uneasiness down. He had a clear view of Ben from this vantage point, and was pleased that his own nerves didn't seem to be affecting his friend. Ben was sitting calmly in the rocker, cradling "Liam," and looking for all the world like the adoring new father that he was. Dean made a mental note to commend his deputy on his valor when all of this was over. 

 

The lawman tried to keep his mind on the task at hand, though questions kept crowding in. Dean was curious about the symbols that Sam had drawn, and he found the way that Sam and the others seemed to know exactly how to handle this situation puzzling. His gut told him that the men's allegiances certainly fell on the right side of the law, but Dean still had some questions. Those could wait though, and Dean's inexplicable trust in Sam made waiting okay.

 

Dean became hyper-aware as a scuffling noise outside drew his attention. He noted that Ben was sitting up stiffly in the rocker as well, put on alert by the strange sound. The scuffle continued for a moment, followed by a dull thud. Since there had been no whistle, Dean assumed that whoever had won the fight, he was one of theirs. Dimly he could make out the sounds of other struggles, though still no alert was sounded. He though that he could hear Bobby cussing as well, but it was drown out by what happened next. 

 

Suddenly the rear door of the property blew open as though propelled by a gale force wind. It banged loudly against the wall as a shadowy figure strolled inside. As his face became clear in the lamplight, Dean recognized Fred Lehne. In the lantern's soft glow, his eyes appeared a sickly yellow, the color of the sky just before a twister touchdown during storm season. Though it had to be a trick of the light, the otherworldly sight made Dean's heart jump in his chest.

 

Lehne's face broke into a charming grin as he laid eyes on Ben and his bundle. Ben was clutching the blankets close to his chest protectively, and the look on his face was a mixture of determination and terror. 

 

"Well, well, well. Just what do we have here?" Lehne asked. His voice was deep, and though his expression was one of good humor, there was no denying the underlying menace. "What you holding there, _Daddy_?"

 

"What are you doing here, Fred?" Dean interrupted. He walked calmly out of the bedroom and into Lehne's view. 

 

The rancher turned towards the lawman, his face briefly registering surprise. He obviously hadn't been expecting anyone else to be in the small house, and panic tried to beat its wings in Dean's chest for a moment, worry for Sam forefront in his mind. He pushed it back down as Lehne focused those eerie eyes on him. And now Dean was sure that the disconcerting color wasn't merely a trick played by the lamp, but that Lehne's eyes were truly and terrifyingly yellow. 

 

Lehne grinned again as Dean began to approach him, hand on the butt of his pistol where it was holstered against his hip. "Sheriff Winchester, isn't this a lovely surprise! I just came in to speak to your deputy. I had heard that he and his pretty wife just welcomed a bouncing baby boy. I figured that it was high time that I acted the good neighbor and came to offer my condolences in person."

 

"Condolences?" Ben spoke up. His face betrayed his confusion. "Don't you mean congratulations?"

 

"Oh, no. I said what I meant," Lehne growled. He stepped closer to the deputy. "I wanted to tell you how sorry I am that you're going to have to give that little critter over to me." The rancher grinned like a shark as he continued to approach, hand outstretched. "You and the wife are both young, you can just have another to replace it. Have a whole litter for all I care. But that one belongs to me." 

 

"I don't think that's gonna happen."

 

Dean turned to the still open doorway, seeing a tall figure filling it. Even in the dim light Dean knew that voice. If he was blind he'd still know the presence of his Sam as he entered the room. Sam's eyes flicked up to the ceiling as he took measured steps towards Lehne, and the demon answered the unasked question.

 

"There was a little flaw in your design, Sammy. Just one tiny line out of place. That trap may have worked on the fodder I've got working under me, but I'm a little higher on the food chain." 

 

That shark-like grin was back as the yellow-eyed man closed in on Sam. He was quick, striking like a viper, swinging his fist in a powerful arc. It was a blow intended to do maximum damage. 

 

Lehne may have been quick, but Dean was quicker. He threw himself between Sam and the threat without thinking. Every cell in his body was screaming at him to protect what was precious to him, and he intervened before either his lover or the demon had time to react. 

 

Sam saw the blow coming, saw his lover throw himself into the crushing arc of it, and was powerless to stop any of it as everything sped into a blur of motion. He saw Dean's body jerk as Lehne's fist caught his face, and heard the sickening jolt when Dean's body spun and hit the floor where he lay, unmoving. 

 

Sam saw red as the filthy creature dared to do harm to what was his. He reached into his holster as the possessed man smirked at him, pulling out the pistol, cocking it, and aiming it at Lehne's chest. 

 

The yellow eyed demon had the audacity to laugh aloud as he saw Sam pointing the gun at him. "What do you think you're gonna do with that? You should know that a gun isn't going to kill the likes of me! Although considering you got your devil's trap wrong, maybe you don't know." Lehne looked immensely pleased by this turn of events, and kept chuckling throughout his declaration. 

 

"Oh, this isn't just any old peashooter," Sam answered. "A friend of mine lent it to me. Samuel Colt. Maybe you've heard of him?"

 

The demon's malevolent eyes widened as he realized what Sam was saying. He began stepping back very slowly, trying to distance himself from the young demon hunter. The look on his face had morphed from triumph to fear, and he held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

 

"Now don't be too rash with that gun, Sammy," Lehne said in his most reasonable tone, even as he continued to back away. "Maybe we could work something out. I'll just leave this little town alone and head off on my merry way. The deputy gets to keep his offspring and the sheriff gets to keep his shithole. What do you say?"

 

"You lost any right to bargain with me the second you laid hands on him," Sam answered as he pulled the trigger.

 

The bullet caught Lehne square in the chest. Dean had started to come around in the midst of the demon's attempts at bartering, and he watched now with awe as streaks of lightening began to radiate out from the neat bullet hole in the former rancher's chest. The light flickered as Lehne fell to his knees and then collapsed completely. 

 

As the body hit the floor, Sam was on his knees at Dean's side, helping him into a sitting position and trying to assess the damage that Lehne had inflicted with his fist. Though it was obvious that there would be a nasty bruise on the left side of Dean's face, it didn't appear as though the cheek was fractured. Sam guessed that if the angle had been a bit different, the injury would have been much worse. But because of the way Dean had interjected himself between Sam and the danger, the blow didn't land as straight or hard as Lehn had intended. 

 

Sam touched the pads of his fingers gently to the reddened area, thanking his sheriff with the soft touch. He wrapped his free arm around the injured man's shoulder, offering his support as Dean regained his bearings. Sam was barely aware of the gentle stroking he started up along Dean's shoulder as he caught his breath, simply relishing the opportunity to touch. 

 

They had all but forgotten Ben's presence, when his shocked voice came from the corner of the room. 

 

"Holy shit! What the hell was that?"

 

Sam turned his eyes to take in the pale deputy as he answered the question with all seriousness. 

 

"That, my friend, was a demon."


	8. Chapter 8

After assessing everyone's injuries, Sam sent Ben and the twins back to Ruby's to check on Sera and the baby. Sam, Bobby and Dean took thier horses and rode out to the Lehne ranch, hoping to intercept, and hopefully destroy, the demon Lilith. 

 

After waiting in the shadows of Lehne's barn for most of the night, it was clear that the hellbitch wasn't going to show. Someone or something had tipped her off to the ambush that had taken down the yellow-eyed demon and his minions. Apparently she was smarter than her demonic counterparts and wasn't destined to feel the sting of the Colt this night. 

 

Sam gazed at Dean, who was practically asleep where he was perched on a nearby bale of hay. After the showdown at the Edlund's, Andy had been sporting a limp, and the rest of the men had been covered in various bumps and bruises. None, however, were as spectacular as the mottled rainbow which was steadily darkening the sheriff's cheek. Sam felt his heart swell once again at the thought that this incredible man had taken that fist, risked his own hide, simply to protect Sam. 

 

Although Sam had tried to convince Dean to stay with his deputy because of his injury and subsequent loss of consciousness at Lehne's hand, the stubborn sheriff had insisted that he was good enough to ride. He had been utterly unwilling to abandon his place at Sam's side. 

 

"I need to see this thing through, Sam," he stated.

 

Now Sam could see that Dean was just about done in. His eyes were drooping, and so were his shoulders. Everything about his person suggested a man on the brink of exhaustion. Sam knew that it was time to get his sheriff home. 

 

"Hey, Bobby, do you mind getting the horses ready? The witch gave us the slip. We might as well head back to town, nothing else is gonna happen here tonight." Bobby nodded his agreement and set out to take care of their mounts. 

 

Sam walked the few short steps over to where Dean was listing and crouched down in front of the other man. Reaching up he laid his hand over the back of Dean's neck, a gesture of comfort and concern. Dean's neck was warm under his palm, and slightly gritty from the dust they'd kicked up on their breakneck race out to the ranch. Sam could read the weariness in those green eyes when they locked on his own, and it stirred something tender in him. Using his hand for leverage, he pulled the sheriff slightly forward so that he could nuzzle against his unblemished cheek, planting a soft kiss to the corner of his succulent mouth. 

 

"Let's get you home before I end up having to carry you there like some damsel in a damn woman's story."

 

Dean huffed out a quiet laugh, then turned his head slightly in order to catch the younger man's lips more fully with his own, taking a moment to simply enjoy the closeness and relish that huge hand on his skin. 

 

"You can bring me home and tuck me in, but only if you promise to tuck in with me."

 

Sam's eyes met his again, and Dean could see the hazel darken with heat. Under that intense gaze he felt as though he was being stripped down, and Sam was seeing right down into his soul. Seeing that what Dean wanted was to be cradled in the dark haired foreman's arms for the rest of his life. And also seeing that Dean knew that it couldn't happen, which was a bitter pill to swallow. After all was said and done, Sam and his boys would move on, and Dean would have to go back to the emptiness he'd felt before this tall stranger had walked in and turned everything he knew on its head. But at least he would have these few precious moments to look back on, and know that he'd had something special, if only for a brief time.

 

"I seem to remember something about 'later,'" Sam replied, letting his desire show clearly on his face. Something tightened low in his belly at the thought of going to bed with this beautiful man. He would finally have the opportunity to explore the muscled form, and his fingertips tingled at the thought of touching every inch of that firm flesh. He felt his cock stir at the thought, and hoped that he could manage to control himself for the ride back to town with the images that were currently running through his head.

 

Sam stood up, offering a hand to Dean, who took it gratefully. As they walked out the barn door and towards the readied horses, their hands remained clasped until they each had to mount their own steeds. They kept Bela and Jericho close as they headed at a more leisurely pace back to town, while Bobby rode a little ways ahead. As they made their journey, Sam took the opportunity to fill Dean in more on what had transpired back at the Edlund's. Though he had given him a brief overview before they hurried to the ranch, he wanted to make sure that Dean was well informed. He was patient as he answered all of Dean's questions, helping the other man fill in the gaps.

 

Yes, demons were real. So were all kinds of other supernatural beings, including ghosts, vampires and werewolves. 

 

Yes, these things could be destroyed. Or in the case of demons, at least sent back to hell.

 

No, a regular gun wouldn't do the trick to take on a demon. Only one known firearm had that capability, and yes, it was currently in Sam's holster. Silver worked on werewolves and beheading on vampires. Salt and flame would get rid of a ghost.

 

The ride back to town continued on this way, with Dean asking his questions and Sam answering as best he could. There was no disbelief in Dean's tone as he voiced his queries; seeing was believing and Dean had seen enough to dispel any doubts. Upon reaching Red Ridge, Bobby veered off towards Ruby's to check in with the twins, while his boss and Dean headed back to Dean's home.

 

Sam helped the weary sheriff with Jericho, and sent him inside as he tended to Bela. As he finished readying her for the night, he grabbed his saddlebag and was drawn inside by the sound of male voices.

 

Entering the house, Sam saw that Dean was not alone. Sitting at the kitchen table was an older man, dark haired, and handsome in a rugged way. He looked almost as tired as Dean, who had dropped into the chair opposite him. Sam recognized John Winchester from their brief meeting at Ruby's, when he and Dean had dropped Sera off. 

 

"Mr. Winchester. Good to see you again," Sam greeted the gambler. He took a place at the table near Dean.

 

John choked out a laugh. "I'd say the same, but under the circumstances that wouldn't exactly be the truth." John stared at his hands for a moment where they were nervously twined together on the tabletop. Then he raised his eyes and met Sam's curious gaze."It was demons, wasn't it? It was demons who wanted the Edlund baby."

 

Dean stared at his father in shock, mouth dropping open. "How did you know that?" he demanded. 

 

"I've known about demons and other bogies for a long time, Dean." John seemed to be having a hard time looking at his son as he spoke. "Your mother, her family. That's what they did. The Campbells were hunters of the supernatural. And that's the real reason that we lost your mama all those years ago. Some demon wanted revenge on your grandfather, and decided that killing Mary would be the best way to get it."

 

Sam was watching Dean's reaction throughout John's little confession. The young lawman was staring at his father as though he had grown a second head. And as the older man continued to speak, Sam could see the color in Dean's face rising. Without thinking, he reached and took one of Dean's hands in his own, wanting to ground the other man, who looked on the verge of exploding. 

 

" _You knew_? All of this time _you knew_ what was out there, and you chose to hide behind a poker table and a bottle of whiskey?" Dean's face was incredulous as he questioned his father. "And Mama. You told me that she died in an accident when I was just a baby! How many other lies did you tell me?"

 

"Dean, I was just trying to protect you! I was barely more than a boy when your mama died! With a boy of my own to take care of!" John's voice had taken on an edge of desperation as he tried to justify his actions to his son. "I'd already lost my wife, I couldn't risk losing you, too!"

 

Dean's shoulders slumped as the fight suddenly went out of him. "I always knew, you know. I could feel that you were hiding something from me, from the time I could think for myself. And you never wanted to talk about Mama, or her family. I guess now I know why." Dean raised his gaze to meet his father's straight on, not even a shred of fondness left in his eyes. "You're a coward, Papa. And I don't want a coward in my home." 

 

John's face grew red at the obvious dismissal in his son's voice. His eyes flicked down to where the younger men's hands were joined on the top of the table, as if just noticing their connection, and his eyes widened in disbelief.

 

"That's it? You'll just throw me out and take up with this, this . . . _sodomite_? Where's the son I raised? The son I protected?" John's voice became steadily louder as he spoke, until the last question was practically shouted. 

 

"Who I choose to love is no longer your concern, John. And your son is the same as he ever was, but the difference is that now his eyes are wide open." Dean's voice was quiet, calm in the face of his father's sudden fury. "All I ever wanted was the truth, and since you couldn't see fit to give me that, there's nothing more I want from you." 

 

 

John abruptly rose from the table and strode out the door, letting it slam behind him as he made his way out into the pre-dawn darkness. The two men at the table were silent as they listened to his footsteps fade away into the night. When the sound of his footfalls had died away, Dean disengaged his hand from Sam's, then dropped his head into his open palms. His shoulders shook briefly as emotion overwhelmed him, though when he raised his head again, his cheeks were dry. Sam could see the shimmer of tears in those brilliant green eyes, but his sheriff would not let them fall. 

 

"You don't seem very surprised by any of this, Sam," Dean commented. There was no malice in his words, only a kind of resignation. He reached out and tangled his fingers with the taller man's to show him that Dean was not placing any of the blame on him for the sudden falling out that he'd just had with his father. 

 

"I had my suspicions," Sam confirmed. He squeezed Dean's hand gently. "That sampler on the wall, was it your mother's?" 

 

"Yes. Pa gave it to me when I got my own place. It's the only thing of hers that I have," was Dean's reply. 

 

Sam rose to his feet, letting go of Dean's hand and pulling the Colt free from his holster, turning it so that Dean could see the inscription on he barrel. 

 

Dean ran his fingers over the finely engraved words, knowing them by heart after all these years of seeing them hanging on he wall. His touch was gentle, almost reverent."

 

" _I will fear no evil_ ," he murmured softly, translating the Latin words without hesitation. He withdrew his touch and watched as Sam slid the gun back into place. He then sat in thoughtful silence as Sam checked the kettle on the stove, where he was heating some well water.

 

"So you knew that there was some connection?" Dean asked.

 

"I suspected it when I saw your wall hanging, but you were obviously unaware, so I just let it go. It didn't make much of a difference in what we had to do. And I never planned for Lehne to get close enough for you to figure it out. I thought about telling you more when we reached the deputy's house," Sam shrugged his shoulders,"but I wasn't sure you'd believe me. And I couldn't risk your walking away." 

 

Sam brought the warmed water over and set it on the table, setting down the clean rags he had brought with him. He cupped the back of Dean's head in his hands, leaning down and kissing him with utmost tenderness. He pulled back as Dean tried to lean into his mouth, but his hands stayed cradling the other man's skull. He tried to put all of the feelings he had swimming inside of him into the look he leveled at the sheriff, wanting Dean to know that Sam treasured him, even if he couldn't quite put it into words.

 

"I needed you by my side." _For always_ , Sam thought, but he knew that it wouldn't be fair to either of them for him to finish his statement that way. Releasing his hold on the other man, Sam picked up the wash water and rags, snagging his pack from the floor as he made his way towards the bedroom. He heard Dean get up from the table, following behind him with the lantern. Setting down his burdens once more, he turned to face the shorter man.

 

"Now let's get you out of those dusty clothes and get you tucked in, Sheriff," Sam said with a hugely dimpled grin.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean's return smile was just as bright despite his exhaustion, as he closed in on the other man. Stepping close he held his arms out to the sides, offering himself up. 

 

"You gonna help me?" he asked. 

 

In response, Sam took a step, eliminating that last bit of distance between them. He grasped the front of Dean's vest, opening it quickly as he slid it down and off. He then went to work on the holster around the sheriff's slender hips, taking his time unbuckling the leather. As it came undone he put his arms around Dean, catching the gun belt as he pressed his lips to his lover's neck. 

 

Dean's eyes slipped shut at the feel of Sam's soft lips against his skin. He arched his neck to the side, trying to give as much of his skin to the taller man as possible, wanting to feel that sweet caress everywhere. A quiet moan passed his lips as Sam brought his tongue into play, gently laving on his tender flesh, before biting down with a sound that was almost a growl. 

 

Dean's skin tasted of salt, and Sam could feel the soft noises that he was making in his throat, causing Sam's lips to tingle. He drew back slowly, not wanting to stop his ministrations, but also wanting to make sure that Dean was clean and comfortable before making him lay down for a much needed rest. As much as he wanted to simply strip the sheriff bare and take him right there, the tenderness he felt won over. He dropped the holster to the floor and resumed his care.

 

Unbuttoning Dean's shirt, Sam feasted his eyes on tantalizing skin as it was revealed. Though Dean's face and hands were deeply tanned, his chest and belly rarely saw the sun, and the skin there was pale and baby soft. Sam resisted the urge to attack that skin with his mouth as he drew the shirt off, dropping it to the floor as well. 

 

Dean was now bare to the waist, and Sam stopped for just a moment to savor the view. Well defined pectorals and abdominals, and the cut of muscle veeing down into his britches. The trail of hair leading down from Dean's belly button was shimmering in the low light, golden red, and it made Sam want to drop to his knees to nuzzle and lick at those hairs before following the trail with his tongue to the prize below.

 

Looking up again, Sam could see that Dean had began to blush at Sam's open admiration. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Sam returned to the task at hand, unfastening Dean's britches and easing them down to mid thigh. He left his underclothes alone for now, not wanting to push the seemingly shy sheriff too far too quickly. 

 

Dean was pliant as Sam sat him on the edge of the bed and began removing his boots, followed by sliding his britches the rest of the way off. Though he felt a bit like a child with Sam undressing him this way, he was also enjoying the attention. It was barely any struggle at all to just turn himself over to this man. He had never been cared for like this before, and he just relaxed and soaked up the attention. 

 

Once Dean was down to his underclothes, Sam stood and quickly divested himself of his own clothing. Stripping down to his own shorts, he hurriedly wiped himself down so that he could return his attention to where it belonged. On the beautiful man that was currently watching him with wide eyes from his seat on the bed.

 

Dean sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he watched Sam undress and bathe himself. The sight of that long, lean body without its covering of clothes had him staring with rapt fascination. Sam's skin was golden everywhere, and Dean had to grip the bedclothes to stop himself from grabbing at the demon hunter. He blushed but was unable to look away as Sam ran the damp cloth beneath the waist of his shorts to clean his groin, releasing his lip from his mouth when a sharp pain clued him in to how hard he had been biting at it. 

 

Tossing his used clothe away, Sam dampened the other before closing in on Dean once more. Laying the other man back on the bed, he began to wash away the grit and sweat of the past day. Starting with that angelic face, he carefully glided the rag over each bit of bare skin. Sam followed the path of the clothe with his fingers, ghosting over each area of damp flesh, memorizing the texture of his Dean's beautiful body. 

 

Dean sighed as Sam kept up his actions. There was something undeniably sensual about being bathed this way, the rasp of the clothe followed by silky touches was erotic, hedonistic. He moaned as Sam attended to him, leaving his limbs loose as each arm was raised and stroked clean in turn. 

 

After finishing with each inch of uncovered skin that he could reach, right down to his toes, Sam urged Dean over onto his stomach, wanting to get his fingers on the expanse of the sheriff's back. He had avoided the other man's groin for the moment, though the soft sounds of enjoyment falling from his lips had made it difficult. As had the interest he could see thickening beneath the thin fabric of his shorts.

 

He rubbed down Dean's back with long, firm strokes, making sure to get the back of his neck as well. He could feel the smaller man practically melting into the mattress, and leaned in the place feather soft kisses down the length of his spine. 

 

Sam slowly began to work at the flesh beneath the waist band of Dean's shorts, edging the fabric lower until he could glimpse just the top of his cleft. He pressed his lips softly to that spot as well, just as he slid the shorts down Dean's powerful thighs so that he had more access to that secret place. 

 

He felt Dean tense slightly at the intimate actions, and Sam paused to run his hand up and down his companion's flank, as if soothing a skittish horse. 

 

"I'm just going to finish cleaning you up. Nothing more than that tonight," Sam murmured. He felt the muscles under his hands go lax again, and he felt honored that this gorgeous being would trust in him like this. He pressed another soft kiss to one downy buttock as he carefully ran the rag down between Dean's cheeks, cleaning him gently but thoroughly. 

 

"One more spot to go, Sheriff, and then we can get some shut-eye." He helped roll Dean back onto his back, as Dean grumblingly kicked his undershorts the rest of the way off so that he was completely unclothed, every last bit of him on display for Sam to devour with his eyes. 

 

Dean cursed himself inwardly as he felt his face color yet again at being so exposed, but soon forgot to be embarrassed as Sam began to once again remove the dust and sweat of the day. The feel of the rag on the tender skin where thigh met groin, then along his sac, had him moaning again. His hips hitched slightly as Sam grazed along his now very interested arousal, squeezing gently. 

 

Although Dean had plenty of experience with his own right hand, he'd never had anyone else touch his bare sex. So the first touch of Sam's huge, warm hand curling around him without the rag had his eyes flying open as his lips dropped open in a long groan. It was so much better than he could have imagined, and he found that he couldn't seem to control the gentle thrusting of his burning cock into that sweet grip. 

 

Sam felt as though his own erection was ready to erupt from just the feel of Dean's turgid flesh in his hand. The sinful sounds and unrestrained movement of Dean's hips were sending him into a lustful haze. Still holding onto the swollen cock in his fist, he lowered his head until he could run his parted lips up the impressive length of it. Dean shuddered in response to the delicate caress, and Sam moaned in return, loving how responsive his lover was. He kissed his way up Dean's belly and chest until he could rub his lips against the other man's. 

 

"Dean. Let me, please. I just wanna taste you for a little while," Sam pleaded.

 

Dean opened hazy green eyes to stare up into Sam's begging face. The hunger he saw there kicked his own lust up even higher, and he lunged towards Sam's lips, nipping and sucking on them as his hips started up a slow grind. 

 

He pulled back enough to gasp out his agreement. Dean could hear the neediness in his own voice, but at this moment it didn't seem to matter. All that mattered was the feel of Sam above him, worshipping his body, loving him.

 

Sam groaned at the begging tone of Dean's whiskey-deep voice, and began his descent back down the other man's delicious body. Though he wanted to take his time, that didn't seem to be an option now that he had the young lawman underneath him.

 

His mouth travelled quickly over the smooth planes of Dean's chest and stomach, nipping little love bites into the pale skin and stopping to make love to that taut navel with his tongue. Teasing little flicks in and out, then circling the tiny indentation as Dean's whimpers grew into full-fledged whines. Sam smiled against Dean's firm belly before following that line of fine hair back down to his lover's arousal. 

 

Dean's cock was rigid, curving up from a thatch of hair that was the same reddish hue as the down on his belly, and the stubble on his rugged face. Sam muzzled his nose into the area at the base of Dean's straining erection, breathing deeply and memorizing the scent of his lust. He ran his tongue out and licked all around the base before lightly caressing the heavy sac with his open mouth. Opening wide, he took first one and then the other side into his mouth, using soft suction as Dean's legs tightened restlessly against his sides. 

 

Sam released the flesh in his mouth with one last suckle, then ran his mouth back up the sheriff's rigid shaft, loving the feel of silky skin against his panting lips. His own cock gave a twitch as he saw the clear fluid which was leaking from Dean's slit and drooling its way down the crown of his flushed cock, clear evidence of his arousal. Sam took a moment to place tiny licks all over the head, gathering that evidence with his tongue and groaning loudly at the taste. Dean gave an answering groan above him, and he could hear little pleading sounds spilling from between the lawman's swollen lips. 

 

Smiling wickedly, Sam took just the head of Dean's cock in his mouth, sucking hard in an attempt to pull more of that salty fluid from the tip, dipping his tongue in and out of the slit like a kitten lapping up cream. He opened his mouth wide as Dean's hips bucked, letting his sheriff's cock slide more deeply into his mouth and moaning as his lips stretched obscenely over the girth, loving the way that sweet flesh moved along his tongue. 

 

Sam's moan seemed to bring Dean just slightly out of the pleasure-induced haze he had fallen into. He focused his gaze on the man who was making him feel this way, worrying that the sound he had heard was one of discomfort. Dropping his hand down to run gently over his lover's cheek, he had to concentrate on not coming as Sam raised his eyes to meet his. The sight of Sam's mouth on his hard flesh, the way that his cheeks were flushed and his eyes glittering with obvious lust, had Dean whimpering against his will. 

 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry . . . got carried away is all." Dean ran his thumb over the corner of Sam's swollen mouth as he spoke. 

 

Sam forced himself to pull off of the other man's cock, though he felt as if he could spend an eternity just tasting. He rubbed soothingly over Dean's hipbone, trying to let him know with the gentle touch that all was well.

 

"You're not hurting me, Dean. I want you to enjoy this, let yourself go." He bent his head and deliberately licked up the hard shaft again, keeping his eyes locked on Dean's, trying to communicate his own desire for this intimate act. "I want you to thrust into my mouth, and hold nothing back until you come and I can drink you down."

 

Dean's eyes fluttered shut again at Sam's words, and his whole body tingled with the idea that he could lose himself in his lover's hot, moist mouth. That Sam wanted to taste his release. He groaned as he felt Sam's lips close tightly around his crown again, then slide down as he pushed his sweet tongue against the underside. Dean's hips began moving of their own will, pushing his pulsing cock further and further into his willing lover.

 

Sam's own cock was hard and weeping as he took Dean as far into his mouth as he could. Reaching down, he managed to shove the material of his underclothes down his hips until he could wriggle them off the rest of the way. He groaned around the shaft in his mouth as his now bare erection came in contact with the smooth, cool sheets, causing Dean's hips to jolt and that delicious flesh to slide inside him even further, bumping the back of his throat. The sensation made him choke, but instead of being uncomfortable it simply made him even more eager. This is what he wanted, for Dean to use his mouth, to piston himself in and out of Sam's throat. He could feel the sheet beneath him dampening as his arousal began to soak the fabric. 

 

Dean felt as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of them, to this bed and the mutual passion that the two men were sharing. As he pumped his straining cock into the welcoming warmth of Sam's mouth, he could feel himself unravelling, his release beginning to build low in his belly. His hands were roaming over whatever pieces of Sam that they could reach, petting through his shaggy hair. Trembling fingers ran over high cheekbones, then dipped into the hollows created each time Sam sucked with more force. He reveled in the feel of Sam's own wandering hands as they explored his sensitive inner thighs and the firm curves of his buttocks. His excitement was burning out of control as those clever fingers grazed closer and closer to his most secret opening, soft and seeking. Dean's thrusts began to lose their rhythm as his release became imminent, hips bucking almost wildly.

 

Though Sam desperately wanted to explore Dean's body, he knew that there just wasn't time. The erratic thrusts pushing Dean's salty flesh into his waiting mouth were his signal that his partner was about to come, and Sam didn't want to be left behind.

 

Slipping a hand up, Sam ran his fingers around the base of Dean's cock, pushing his palm against the tightening sac beneath where his own saliva was pooling. He then worked his wet hand down to grasp his own neglected arousal in a tight fist, moaning around his mouthful at the touch. 

 

Dean looked down his body to where his lover was groaning around him, seeing the way that the muscles rippled in his arm and shoulder as he took himself in hand and began to work himself in time to the bobbing of his head over Dean's groin. The sight, along with another deep groan, was enough to send Dean over the edge, and his body froze in a trembling line as he came.

 

As the first jet of bittersweet fluid coated his tongue, Sam joined Dean in his release. With the taste and smell of Dean filling his senses, Sam's own arousal pulsed in his fist, spurting onto the bed and almost stealing his conciousness as he came.

 

Bonelessness stole over Sam as he came back from the intensity of his orgasm, and he withdrew his mouth from Dean's softening cock with a sigh. Dean's hands were back in his hair, stroking and gently scritching at his scalp. Sam rubbed his cheek lazily against his sheriff's hip before raising his head to gaze at his lover.

 

Dean was flushed from his exertions, with a light sheen of sweat dampening his firm chest. His eyes glittered at Sam in the low light of the lamp, dark and sparkling in the dimness. He looked sleepy and sated, and Sam's chest felt tight with emotion at the thought that he had made Dean look so content as he made his way back up his lover's body so that he could reach that sweet smile.

 

As Sam pressed their mouths together once more, Dean couldn't help but sigh softly into their kiss. He felt like he was floating and he could only thank his lucky stars for this time with the younger man. Sam's lips felt swollen against his own, and he could faintly taste himself there. His cock gave an interested twitch at the thought, and if he'd had more energy he would have tried to coerce Sam into another round. As it was he could feel his eyelids growing heavy as he fought to stay awake for just a moment more.

 

Sam could see that Dean was on the verge of drifting off, so he grabbed the rag from the nightstand and quickly wiped them both down. He knew that Dean was on the edge of exhaustion, and simply wanted to hold the other man in his arms as he slept. 

 

As Sam discarded the washcloth and lay back down, Dean snuggled into his side. Throwing a leg over Sam's hips as a strong arm pulled him in, Dean lay his head on the demon hunter's warm chest. Sam's heartbeat was solid and steady in Dean's ear, and it seemed as though his own heart was matching his lover's beat for beat. He pressed a kiss to the golden skin under his cheek, hoping that the small gesture conveyed all of the feelings floating in his head. 

 

Sam tightened his hold on the smaller man as he felt satin lips brush his chest. He affectionately pressed his own kiss to the top of the sheriff's head in return.

 

"Sleep now, Dean. I'll still be here in the morning."

 

As Sam began to lose his grip on the waking world, he thought he heard Dean whisper against his skin.

 

_"Maybe you'll be here in the morning, but it's afterwards that I'm afraid of."_


	10. Chapter 10

  
Author's notes: This was supposed to be the last chapter, but the boys got a bit carried away, so one more to go to wrap this thing up!  


* * *

Dean awoke to the early morning sun in his eyes, and a warm body lying in a long line against his back. Thoughts of the night before popped into his head, and he couldn't help but smile at the feel of the strong arm around his middle, holding him close to his new lover. 

 

Moving carefully so as not to wake the other man, Dean turned in the circle of Sam's arms until he could take in the demon hunter's face. In sleep some of the hardness was gone, leaving Sam looking young, boyish. His golden skin seemed to almost glow in the sunrise, highlighting his high cheekbones and the fine stubble on his firm jaw. His hair was tumbled across his forehead and across the pillow, curling slightly at the ends. That mouth that had brought Dean so much pleasure during the night was slack, the pink lips looking soft and still a bit swollen. 

 

Reaching out, Dean very gently ran his fingertips over those lips, admiring the silky feel of them against his skin. Images of those lips wrapped around his cock had that very thing stiffening as a sense memory washed over him. 

 

Unable to stop himself, Dean tilted his head forward until he could touch Sam's mouth with his own. Though the contact was no more than a whisper, it awoke Dean's lust, and he pressed against Sam's lips again, this time with increasing pressure. 

 

Sam came awake to the feel of Dean's mouth taking his own, softly at first and then with more force. The sheriff's lips were warm and plush against his own, and Sam opened further under the delicious onslaught as Dean's tongue began to sweep softly along the inside of his sleep-parted lips. Suddenly Sam felt much more awake.

 

Dean let out a grunt as his back hit the mattress, Sam flipping him easily so that he lay under the larger man. He pulled his mouth away and let out a surprised laugh at how Sam had so simply manhandled him into this position. Dean was by no means a weakling, and being tossed about like a feather sent a thrill up his spine. 

 

Sam looked down at Dean's laughing face with a grin of his own. He'd seen many looks on the sheriff's face over the past several days. Surprise, dismay, determination, even lust, but never this look, with his face untroubled and joyful. Sam brought his hands up to try and catch that happiness in his palms, and again kissed his lover's smile. 

 

Dean felt the spark of passion between them ignite once more as Sam deepened his kiss, thrusting his tongue into Dean's mouth and dominating it. Kisses turned to nips and slow glides of tongue as Sam began to make his way down his neck, pausing to nibble on his collarbone. His hands left Dean's face to stroke down his chest, his sides, his hipbones.

 

Dean gasped as Sam's warm hand closed around his hardened cock, squeezing gently. His hips pulsed up into the touch, creating friction between their flesh. His own hand slid down until he could brush his fingers over the tip of Sam's answering arousal, feeling the fluid beginning to gather there. Sam whined against his ear at the contact. 

 

"Yeah, touch me, Dean. Wanna feel your hands on me." Sam's voice was low and breathless with arousal as he continued to stroke his lover's firm flesh.

 

Dean closed his hand more firmly around Sam, enjoying the sensation of silky hot skin against his palm and fingers. He ran his fingers over the weeping head, dipping the tip of his forefinger into the slit. Sam's hips snapped forward at the small penetration, and he again made that whining gasp in Dean's ear.

 

For long moments they lay like that, petting and stroking one another, trading kisses and pleasure. Sam could feel his arousal spinning out of control, but this wasn't what he wanted. He wanted every bit of his handsome sheriff, while there was still time. 

 

Releasing Dean from his grip, he grasped his lover's wrist to still the pumping on his own cock. Dean whimpered and struggled briefly, but when Sam whispered his name he opened his eyes and met the other man's gaze. 

 

"Dean, I want all of you. Let me have this with you."

 

Dean blinked up at him owlishly, appearing puzzled for a moment before his green eyes widened in understanding. 

 

"You mean . . . _have me_?" Dean stammered.

 

"Yes, with me inside of you. I wanna remember that for the rest of ever, the feeling of you around me. Can I . . . can we have that?"

 

Dean turned his eyes away from the earnest look in Sam's eyes. He didn't feel as though Sam were pushing him, the fact that he had asked before going any further made Dean feel respected and cared for. He just didn't know how to tell Sam about his lack of experience, and briefly worried that the demon hunter would reject him at the confession. After all, he wasn't some schoolboy, he was a grown man. He'd just never wanted anyone that way, not before Sam.

 

With his eyes still averted, Dean decided the best course of action would be to simply say it. His voice was barely a whisper as he said, "I've never done that. Not with anyone. The most I've ever done has been with you, right here in this bed. But I wanna do that, with you inside me. If you still want me."

 

Sam's heart felt as though it would bust at Dean's words, and he suddenly wished that he could erase every meaningless dalliance he'd ever had, just so that he could have given that part of himself to the man in his arms. 

 

With a hand to Dean's cheek, he guided the sheriff's face back towards his own. Focusing all of his want on the shining eyes now meeting his own, all Sam could say was, "Thank you."

 

Reaching down with a long arm, Sam pulled a small stoppered flask out of his pack and set it next to them on the sheets. He would need its contents later, especially now that he knew that Dean had never had another enter him. The oil inside would help slick the way and make everything easier for his love.

 

"I'll take care of you, Dean, and I'm gonna make it so good for you," Sam told the smaller man.

 

Dean met his eyes with a look that spoke volumes of trust. "I know," was his reply. 

 

With that said, Sam returned his attention to the worship of the body beneath him, lavishing every inch of Dean's neck and chest with open-mouthed kisses, suckling each nipple into a tight bud as they met the path of his mouth. Dean squirmed under the attack on his flesh, as soft whimpers and moans fell from his lips. Again he was being caught in a net of Sam and want.

 

Sam relished the feel of Dean's hands tugging at his hair as he continued to work his way down the firm body of his sheriff. He worked his lips down the sensitive crease between hip a groin, nosing at Dean's heavy sac. Moving slowly, he gripped the other man's slightly bowed legs behind each knee, bending and raising them towards Dean's chest. 

 

Lost as he was in the fog of physical pleasure, Dean couldn't help but tense as Sam bent his legs up, exposing all of him and bringing a feeling of vulnerability with it. He reflexively tried to bring his legs down, and that movement, paired with the tautness of his muscles, had Sam quickly releasing him and bringing himself up so that they were again face-to-face.

 

Sam kissed his face over and over as he spoke, explaining that he wouldn't hurt him, that every bit of him was beautiful, and that Sam just wanted to see. The gentle affection had the desired effect, and soon Dean was not only nodding in agreement, but drawing his own knees back to give Sam free reign over his body. 

 

As Dean's opening was revealed to his sight, Sam thought that he just might choke on the emotions he was feeling. The tiny pink opening was laid bare to his gaze, and he just stared in wonder for a moment before reaching down to touch. Caressing Dean's firm buttock with his fingers, he ran the pad of his thumlightly over the pretty pucker. His cock throbbed at the sight of the tight hole clenching under that tender touch. Bringing his other hand up to his mouth, he licked at the thumb, wetting it with his saliva. He ran his now slick thumb over Dean's virgin hole, shuddering at the flesh glistening with that touch of wetness. He felt Dean shiver in response, and it occurred to Sam that no one else had ever touched Dean like this, or seen the gorgeous sight that was in front of him. The thought was almost enough to push Sam over the edge, and he had to quickly grip the base of his cock to keep from coming right then. 

 

His eyes kept focusing on that glint of moisture, and Sam suddenly wanted to see more. He wanted to see Dean's hole completely drenched with it. Leaning forward, Sam swiped the flat of his tongue over the tight opening, then again and again, laving over Dean's secret flesh. 

 

Dean hadn't been prepared for the tingles of pleasure that he would feel when Sam touched his nether parts for the first time. The slickness of his wetted thumb felt even better, and Dean felt himself tremble at that smooth touch. But what shocked him the most was when Sam's warm wet tongue suddenly began to stroke him down there, and he couldn't hold back the cry that fell from his mouth at the incredible sensation. 

 

Sam couldn't get enough of the intimate taste of his sheriff, and he kept licking at his rosy pucker with abandon. His tongue traced circles around the tight rim, finding the center and sucking gently, then pulsing forward, trying to breach the tight muscle. After several minutes of this treatment, Sam worked the tip of his tongue in and proceeded to lick around the insides, pushing his tongue in ever deeper. 

 

Dean was drowning in the sensation of Sam's mouth on him. Never had he thought of such a thing, but now he never wanted it to end. He again cried out as he felt his lover's tongue enter his body, the feel of that slippery muscle sliding along his insides making him lose all sense. The only thing he was aware of right now was Sam; he had utterly surrendered.

 

Sam continued his oral explorations as he fumbled for the flask of oil, managing to get it open and coating his fingers without losing contact with Dean. He brought his now slick digits up and ran them along Dean's slightly stretched rim, lubricating to tender skin there. He gently played with the edges of the opening as he continued to lick and nibble, catching the rim and softly tugging as his tongue explored. Finally he slowly slid the first digit in as he retracted his tongue. It slid in to the second knuckle before the ring of muscle clamped down around it, holding him in place. 

 

Sam looked up to find Dean's eyes had closed, mouth open and head thrown back. His grip remained firm on his own thighs, but nothing in his expression indicated discomfort. The muscles around his finger loosened and he pushed his finger he rest of he way in, earning a breathless moan from the sheriff. 

 

Dean could only whimper and shake as Sam continued to lick and play with his hole. At the feel of Sam's thick finger sliding into him, he again cried out, loving the feeling of penetration by his lover. He soon felt another finger nudging at his rim, and rolled his hips down to meet it. He gasped at the slight burn but it quickly faded as Sam simply let his fingers rest there for a moment, unmoving. 

 

Sam had groaned aloud when Dean had pushed his hips down to take Sam's second finger into himself, but stilled immediately at the gasp from his partner. His willpower was tested as he let Dean become accustomed to the new stretch, but lost when the smaller man began to pulse his hips down again, making Sam's fingers shift inside of him. He began to slowly piston his fingers in and out of Dean's tight passage, spreading them to help stretch the constricting rim. He was torn between watching Dean's face, with his fluttering eyelids and panting mouth, and the way his fingers were sliding in and out of his lover's hole. The flesh there sunk in each time he pushed his fingers deeper, and then clung when he would withdraw. The rim was beginning to become reddened from use, and slightly puffy. Sam couldn't help but lean down and trace the stretched flesh with his tongue, licking hungrily around his own fingers. 

 

Dean gasped again as the third finger entered him, but the small pain was nothing compared to the lust that was consuming him. His cock was red and leaking copiously against his belly, and he felt like he might go off like a gunshot at any moment. Sam had been so patient with him, but his own patience had run out. 

 

"Enough! Sam, it's enough! I just need you in me, or this is gonna be over before we get there." 

 

At Dean's demand, Sam withdrew his fingers and quickly slicked his pulsing cock with more oil. He did it carefully, because he was so close just from the sight and sound of Dean writhing on his fingers that too much stimulation would push him right over the edge. Grabbing Dean's legs, he positioned them over his shoulders, leaving Dean open and ready. 

 

Hazel eyes caught and kept bright green as Sam pushed forward against the resisting rim, finally forcing the head through. The muscles clamping down on his cock were almost too tight, pleasure with an edge of pain. Dean's eyes were wide as he stared at Sam, bottom lip clenched between his teeth. But for all of that Dean's cock remained hard and ready between them. As the tightness loosened slightly, Sam pulsed his hips forward bit by bit, until he was fully sheathed within Dean's body. And then he waited.

 

The initial breach burned, the thick head of Sam's cock feeling as though it were splitting his body in two. But strangely the pain just intensified the pleasure, making it more real that this incredible man was working himself into Dean's body. The thought alone kept Dean's cock full and throbbing. He could feel the wetness of his own fluids smearing across his belly with each panting breath. After a moment of stillness, he pushed his hips down experimentally, and his body seemed to just give. The burn quickly faded, leaving only satisfying feeling of fullness. 

 

Sam felt the moment that Dean's body stopped fighting him and simply let him in, seated in his lover as though he belonged there. Taking the gentle glide of Dean's hips for the signal it was, Sam began to slowly pull out and slide back in, aiming for that sweet spot inside that would make Dean see stars. He'd avoided it while preparing his lover, selfishly wanting Dean to experience that incredible pleasure only once Sam was truly inside of him. 

 

Dean moaned at the feeling of Sam's hard flesh sliding out of him, then cried out as Sam pushed himself back in. The head of his cock brushed over a certain place inside of him, and it had Dean arching his back as stars flashed in front of his eyes. His hips began to rock with each push and pull of his lover's hips, and Sam kept hitting that spot, until Dean was almost screaming from the ecstasy of it. 

 

As Dean's cries grew louder and the rocking of his hips wilder, Sam began to lose control. His hips pistoned as he sank into his lover again and again, the hot channel of Dean's body caressing and squeezing his cock until he thought that he would go mad with it. Balancing himself on one arm, he kept up his harsh pace as he took Dean's cock in his hand, stroking it in time with his own thrusts. He knew that they were both at the edge. 

 

" _Come with me, Dean_ ," Sam growled, just before bringing his mouth down hard over the sheriff's.

 

The combination of Sam's rough hand on his cock, along with the feral sound of his voice and the ferocity of his kiss, was more than enough to send Dean's release racing through him. His whole body tightened as his cock covered his chest and belly with the evidence of his pleasure. His scream was swallowed up by Sam's mouth on his own, and it was perfect. 

 

At the feel of Dean's muscles clenching and fluttering around his cock, Sam's own release took him. His cock pulsed, filling his lover's body and making the last reflexive thrusts of his arousal slide even more smoothly in their combined wetness.

 

They panted into each other's mouths for a long few moments as they hovered on the brink of consciousness, until Sam pulled back enough to cover Dean's face with butterfly soft kisses. He kissed his sheriff's cheeks and nose and eyelids, peppering him with affection while Dean smiled contentedly up at him. Neither was burdened by thoughts of the coming good-byes in that moment. 

 

Raising up slightly, Sam slipped his now spent cock from the warmth of Dean's body, and despite the soreness settling in, Dean gave a small sound of displeasure at the feeling of being empty. He knew that he would crave that fullness for the rest of his life. But for right now all he felt was the call of sleep. 

 

Sam reached over and took up one of the discarded cloths from the night before, wetting it with the leftover water on the nightstand. He gently wiped down Dean's chest and belly before rolling the other man onto his side to clean between his buttocks. 

 

Sam hissed quietly at the sight of Dean's hole, the opening still not fully closed, but swollen and even more reddened after their lovemaking. Part of him felt guilty for causing Dean even a shred of discomfort, bur some dark part of him also enjoyed the used look of Dean's puckered hole. That dark part that seemed to say that Dean was _his/i >._

_Sam tenderly wiped the abused skin, which barely drew a shiver from a mostly slumbering Dean. Throwing the cloth across the room, Sam settled down to nap with his sheriff. They still had a few hours left._

__


	11. Chapter 11

When Sam awoke again, it was to find the bed, and his arms, empty. He could hear soft clattering from the other room, and guessed that Dean was up and about. He was surprised that the other man had been able to get up without waking him, it had been many years since Sam had been able to sleep soundly enough not to rouse at the smallest sound. It was yet another testament to how comfortable he felt with his lover. 

 

Sam heard the rustling in the kitchen cease, then the telltale creak as Dean settled himself into one of the chairs. He could smell the rich scent of coffee, and guessed that was what the noise had been about. Rolling onto his back, he scrubbed a wide hand across his face, knowing that he needed to get up and speak with Dean. He sighed as he got up and quickly pulled on his bottoms and undershirt before padding out to the kitchen. 

 

Dean didn't look up from the contemplation of his coffee cup as he heard Sam approach. When he'd awakened after their lovemaking, Dean had wanted to stay right where he was, cradled in Sam's arms. But Dean thought of himself as a realistic man, and he knew that lying in the demon hunter's embrace for those few more moments would only delay the inevitable. Sam and his posse would ride out today, and Dean would go back to being as lonely as ever. Thinking on it as he went through the motions of making his morning brew, he decided that it would likely be worse than before, now that he knew what intimacy could feel like. But he wouldn't take one kiss or heated look back even if it would save him all the misery in this damn, dying world, because his time with Sam had been too precious for such waste. 

 

Sam knelt next to Dean's chair, gripping the other man's legs and gently pulling until he could push himself between strong thighs. His heart broke a little as Dean still avoided looking at him, focused instead at a point just past his shoulder. Wedging his body more firmly against his sheriff's, he wrapped one arm around Dean's waist and reached up with his free hand to grasp the strong jaw and turn Dean's face until he could meet his eyes. 

 

"Hey. What's goin' on in that head of yours?" Sam gently queried, studying the bright green of the eyes meeting his own. "Why didn't you wake me?"

 

Dean sighed as he set his coffee down, then laced his hands behind Sam's neck to bring their foreheads together. His breath smelled sweet, like the sugar he'd dumped in his cup that morning, a small indulgence that he rarely afforded himself. He'd figured that this morning he deserved a treat, knowing what was to come. 

 

"You just looked awful peaceful there in my bed. I figured peace might be a rarity for you, so I just let you be." 

 

"I'd have rather spent the time with you, Sheriff," Sam answered. "Bobby and the boys will be expecting to hit the trail later, so . . ." Sam's voice trailed off, knowing that Dean could fill in the rest of what he couldn't say out loud. 

 

"Yeah, I know. I wish you'd stay, Sam." Dean pulled back a bit, just far enough so that he could study Sam's face, gauge his reaction to Dean's wishful thinking. He could see the longing in the demon hunter's expressive hazel eyes, but the look of regret coloring his features was also unmistakable. Dean sighed and brought his hands around to cup the other man's stubbled jaw, bringing their mouths together in a tender kiss.

 

"I know you can't, you don't gotta say it. I can't say I like it, but I understand."

 

Sam brought his own hands up, covering Dean's where they cradled his face. He pressed, trying to imprint the feeling of Dean's hands on him into the flesh beneath. But Sam knew that even with the feeling of those hands gone, Dean would always be under his skin.

 

"Dean, come with me! We can track this Lilith down, destroy some evil sons-of-bitches together." Sam's voice had a desperate edge to it as he voiced his idea. He hated that the desperation was there for his lover to hear, but he couldn't help it. Now that he'd found this incredible partner, the thought of having to leave without him was almost physically painful, a ten-ton weight pushing on his chest. 

 

Dean shook his head in response. Though he was loathe to part ways with his lover, he was still the sheriff of this town, and he had his responsibilities to the people he was sworn to protect. And he'd spent so long thinking of others that wanting something for himself just didn't seem right. Even if he made himself miserable in the process, Dean was loyal to a fault. 

 

"My place is here. This is my home, my people. You've got your job, and I've got mine. It's got nothin' to do with what I want, Sam, but I've gotta keep my word to the folks in this town."

 

"I guess that's all there is to say about it, then," was Sam's reply. He could feel the sting of tears in his eyes. What Dean said was true, but that didn't make it any easier. Wrapping his arms around the sheriff's waist, he pressed his ear to his lover's chest, listening to the solid heartbeat there.Dean slid his own arms around Sam, holding him close and just savoring the moment. They sat that way, in Dean's silent kitchen, for a long while. Sam was right, there was nothing left to be said.

**************************************************

Several hours later, Sam found himself riding Bela through the dusty countryside, following the rumors that Bobby had heard of a missing child several days' ride away. He was trying his best to pay attention to his crew, though his thoughts kept wandering back to Red Ridge. He'd left Dean sitting there at the kitchen table, giving him one last passionate kiss before walking out the door. He hadn't looked back as he left, knowing that the sob he was holding in would break loose if he took that last look at his sheriff. He wanted Dean to remember the heat and tenderness between them, not his tears.

 

"Boss?"

 

Sam suddenly realized that Bobby had been trying to get his attention as his mind had been drifting. The older man was looking at him with barely restrained concern, and Sam felt even worse knowing that his crew was counting on him despite his misery. He couldn't afford the distraction. But now that the distraction was there, he wasn't sure it would ever go away. He hoped he could just learn to ignore the Dean-shaped hole in his life, though at the moment he was having doubts. Even as he inwardly rolled his eyes at his own soppy thoughts, he knew that it was all true. 

 

"Yeah, Bobby?"he finally answered.

 

"Wanna stop for the night? This place is as good as any. We can get rested up, hit the trail again at first light."

 

"Yeah, that sounds about right. Ya gonna feed me, too?"

 

"I'll make some grub, then we'll bed down. It's been a long couple days, huh?"

 

Not as long as the rest of his days would be, Sam thought. Days without Dean.

**************************************************

After Sam had left, Dean had gotten up from the table and wandered into the bedroom. He'd spent several minutes simply gazing at the still mussed bed, with the sheets in a tangle and the two pillows side by side, where he'd spent the morning making love with Sam. He eventually laid himself down on the again empty side of the bed, burying his face in the pillow. He could still smell Sam there, like grass and sunshine. Though his eyes burned, the tears wouldn't come, just the empty feeling that he was going to have to live with the rest of his life.

 

Dean Winchester was in many ways a hard man. Though he was a fair man of the law, he wasn't soft, and he didn't let his feelings show. He'd played the part of the friendly yet firm sheriff for a long time. But Sam had awoken the real Dean, a man who was capable of true feeling. The deep ache in his chest proved that.

 

After lying on the bed for a time, Dean slowly pulled himself together. He got up and dressed in his sheriff's togs, and set his face into its familiar mask. It was time to get to work.

 

John Winchester looked surprised, and more than a little wary, as his son sat down next to him at the bar. The saloon wasn't open yet, and the barmistress was still upstairs, so they had the place to themselves. John opened his mouth to speak, but cut himself short as Dean raised his hand in a gesture to stop. "

 

I didn't come here to fight with you, Pa," Dean stated, though his gaze remained firmly on the bar top, rather than meeting the eyes of the man next to him. 

 

"Then why are ya here? I wouldn't expect that you'd have much else to say to me after yesterday," John answered. "I half expected a fist when I saw ya coming."

 

"Yeah, well, I thought about it," Dean answered. The corners of his mouth pulled up in the ghost of a grin as he finally slanted his gaze towards the man next to him. His anger with his father had burned hot after their argument, but just like a fast burning flame, it had guttered out just as quickly. What he needed now was a shoulder to lean on, and this man was about all he had left. He just didn't know where to start, and the silence just kept stretching on. 

 

John finally broke it, looking at his only child with regret plain on his rugged face. "I'm sorry, son. Sorry for not telling you the truth, sorry for what I said about Sam, and sorry for not being the father you deserved." 

 

Dean had expected some small apology from his father, but the flood of them that poured out of John's mouth was something that he _hadn't_ expected. He gaped at the other man, green eyes wide with shock. John wasn't one to admit to any wrongdoing, and Dean felt like he barely knew the man he was looking at. John took a deep breath before he continued, though he kept his eyes on his son the whole time.

 

"I'm sorry I lied, and I should have seen that you knew that something wasn't right. You told me that you've always known that there was more, and I wish I would have paid more attention. You've never been one to complain, Dean, you're like your mother that way, but even I can see that you've never been happy. You've taken your lot in this life with never a cross word about it, but there's never been any joy in it for you, either. Not until now."

 

"Sam." The name came out of Dean's mouth like a prayer, soft and reverent. 

 

"Yeah, Sam." John nodded his agreement. " I seen the way you looked at each other when you came asking about helping your deputy. Truth was that I didn't want to see it, but seeing you looking like this again has surely changed my mind." 

 

Dean's voice was small, broken as he answered. "He's gone, Pa."

 

That voice reminded John of his son at a tender age, asking about his Mama, wondering why the other boys had a mother to go home to when he didn't. Made John think of that same tone coming from a small tow-headed boy with big eyes that made him look so much like the woman they had both lost. And those memories spurred John to stand up for his son and try to make things right after all these years. 

 

"Then I reckon you'd better go and find him."

**************************************************

Sam could hear the sound of hooves approaching along the trail near their camp, and was up out of his blankets in a flash, knife in hand. He was still on edge despite his emotional and physical exhaustion, almost wishing for some threat to appear so that he could work out some of his pent up anguish. He figured that a good fight might actually make him tired enough to at least doze for a bit. What he didn't expect was for a familiar silhouette to appear, leading Jericho by the reins towards their campfire. His knife fell from fingers gone numb, hitting the dirt and sticking there, buried halfway to the hilt as hazel eyes lit up with joy.

 

"Dean?" His voice was choked, disbelieving. Then that figure was rushing towards him, arms outstretched as Dean threw himself into Sam's arms. The demon hunter enfolded his sheriff, gathering the smaller man as close as he could, raining kisses down on that beloved face in between half-asked questions. 

 

"How?" A kiss to the tip of a freckled nose. 

 

"I thought . . . ?" A soft peck to each eyelid. 

 

"What are ya . . .?" A deeper kiss this time to soft, smiling lips.

 

Dean was laughing in Sam's arms, clinging to his lover's taller frame as he was assaulted with affection. He finally managed to snuggle himself in to whisper in Sam's ear, voice low and intimate. "I couldn't let you go, not when you were taking so much of me with you." He felt Sam's arms tighten around him just a fraction more, and knew that Sam understood exactly what he was trying to say. 

 

A loudly cleared throat had the men pushing back from each other to face a grinning Bobby. The older man stood nearby, holding onto Jericho's reins where he had caught them during Dean's desperate rush to Sam. 

 

"Good to see you again, Sheriff," the grizzled hunter spoke through his smile.

 

"Not Sheriff anymore, Bobby, that honor goes to Ben now. I figured he more than proved himself with Lehne, and I couldn't just sit in Red Ridge on my ass with this Lilith still out there." Dean paused, looking at Sam again. "I was hoping I could join y'all on the hunt, if your foreman here will have me." 

 

Sam couldn't stop himself from reaching out and dragging Dean to him again. He cradled the other man's face in his hands as he bent in for another breath-stealing kiss. He poured all of his passion, his desire, his _love_ for Dean into the meeting of their lips, before pulling his mouth away and leaning their foreheads together. His whisper was just loud enough for his lover's ears.

 

" _Always_."


End file.
